Giallo and italo-disco came out of the same country in the same decade, and almost nobody thinks to put them in one room. Argento's 1975 picture is the one with the Goblin score, the murder glimpsed through a window by a man who cannot trust what he saw, and a colour palette that makes no logical sense and perfect emotional sense. A DJ spins italo before the film and again after it, so you dance, then you watch somebody get killed to what is essentially a prog-rock lullaby, then you dance again — and the second dance feels different, which is the joke and also the point. It screens in a restored Eagle Rock movie house that still runs 35mm and keeps a thirty-six seat microcinema down the hall. Doors open ninety minutes before the picture, because the first set is not a warm-up act. Horror obsessives and record collectors end up finding each other in the lobby, which is not something either scene planned on. Doors six, picture seven-thirty, Tuesday the 27th of October, at the old Eagle Theatre on Eagle Rock Blvd.
Giallo and italo-disco came out of the same country in the same decade, and almost nobody thinks to put them in one room. Argento's 1975 picture is the one with the Goblin score, the murder glimpsed through a window by a man who cannot trust what he saw, and a colour palette that makes no logical sense and perfect emotional sense. A DJ spins italo before the film and again after it, so you dance, then you watch somebody get killed to what is essentially a prog-rock lullaby, then you dance again — and the second dance feels different, which is the joke and also the point. It screens in a restored Eagle Rock movie house that still runs 35mm and keeps a thirty-six seat microcinema down the hall. Doors open ninety minutes before the picture, because the first set is not a warm-up act. Horror obsessives and record collectors end up finding each other in the lobby, which is not something either scene planned on. Doors six, picture seven-thirty, Tuesday the 27th of October, at the old Eagle Theatre on Eagle Rock Blvd.
Giallo and italo-disco came out of the same country in the same decade, and almost nobody thinks to put them in one room. Argento's 1975 picture is the one with the Goblin score, the murder glimpsed through a window by a man who cannot trust what he saw, and a colour palette that makes no logical sense and perfect emotional sense. A DJ spins italo before the film and again after it, so you dance, then you watch somebody get killed to what is essentially a prog-rock lullaby, then you dance again — and the second dance feels different, which is the joke and also the point. It screens in a restored Eagle Rock movie house that still runs 35mm and keeps a thirty-six seat microcinema down the hall. Doors open ninety minutes before the picture, because the first set is not a warm-up act. Horror obsessives and record collectors end up finding each other in the lobby, which is not something either scene planned on. Doors six, picture seven-thirty, Tuesday the 27th of October, at the old Eagle Theatre on Eagle Rock Blvd.