While neo-giallo directors like Luciano Onetti (Francesca and Sonno Profondo) or Helene Cattet and Bruno Forzani (The Strange Color of Your Body's Tears) have pulled off splendidly updated stylish, atmospheric European thrillers in the 2010s, Luca Canale Brucculeri failed miserably with this sophomoric simp of Dario Argento's films.
I mean, if you're going to make a giallo you AT LEAST have to have cinematography and atmosphere. That's a no brainer. Instead, Onirica looks as though someone's brother used a handheld camera to make a home video on a special occasion. The only way I could make it through this trash is if someone paid me.
Furthermore, Onirica commits the deadly sin of adolescent, in-your-face mentions of Argento's Deep Red within the first ten minutes. I mean come on grow up, this is not how you pay tribute, this is how you embarrass yourself internationally.
I mean, if you're going to make a giallo you AT LEAST have to have cinematography and atmosphere. That's a no brainer. Instead, Onirica looks as though someone's brother used a handheld camera to make a home video on a special occasion. The only way I could make it through this trash is if someone paid me.
Furthermore, Onirica commits the deadly sin of adolescent, in-your-face mentions of Argento's Deep Red within the first ten minutes. I mean come on grow up, this is not how you pay tribute, this is how you embarrass yourself internationally.