Dario, hi. It's Kate. It's about last night--we need to talk. I know we've had some amazing times together, and I'll never forget that it was you who opened my eyes to the wonderful world of Eurotrash cinema. Trust me, the colorful kaleidoscope of sadism in "Suspiria" will always have a special place in my heart. But--you've changed. Worse than that--you've changed but you seem to be the only one who doesn't know. You insist on reliving your past and it's starting to intrude on the beautiful memories I have of you.
Look--let me just lay it on the line.
In "The Third Mother," you gave me Udo Kier, a monkey sidekick, some gorgeous interiors, and some really gut-wrenching FX work by Sergio Stivaletti. It's not that I don't appreciate all that, but... You wasted poor Udo's talents on some embarassing exposition and it just felt like you relied on Sergio's work to make up for a marked lack of the kind of fancy cinematography and deft art direction that I learned to expect from your work in the 70s and 80s.
I mean, I guess, if I pretend "Third Mother" wasn't your movie, it was entertaining enough, but you couldn't resist reminding me at every turn of the times we shared in the past. Not only were there heavy-handed references to "Suspiria" and "Inferno," lowering the movie to the status of cheap cash-in sequel, but you pushed the envelope with wink-winks to "Phenomena," "Tenebre," "Opera," and "Four Flies on Gray Velvet." It was all there and--frankly--it was embarassing for both of us. You're better than that. Or at least you were at one point...
While we're on the topic of embarassment, can we talk about the witches? Really, Dario. I know a thing or two about heavy eyemakeup and gothic fancy-dress. You should have called me. I kept wanting to reach through the screen and adjust the makeup on the girls, or just run them all into H&M for an emergency makeover (I can respect budgetary constraints, I really can). But no, you wound up turning your ladies into extras from Pat Benatar's "Love is a Battlefield." While I won't object to the presence of creepy chicks on-screen (trust me on that), it was just distracting.
I respect your creativity enough that I won't bring up the obvious plot holes and the characters who don't act like any human being would ever act. I won't even mention the fact that your daughter's Touch of the Innsmouth has turned into a Bitchslap from the Deep Ones.
Look, I'm only telling you this because I care about you and I really do treasure the memories. But... Dario, I'm going to stop seeing you. I can't go on this way. I'm taking my DVD collection and leaving today, so I can remember you the way you were.