The journey through Dario Argento's filmography continues as Steven and Sean arrive at what many consider the director's creative peak: the 1980s. If the previous decade established Argento as the master of Giallo, this one saw him push his style into ever stranger, more operatic territory, blending murder mysteries with supernatural horror and some of the most astonishing visuals ever committed to film.

This fortnight, we revisit Inferno (1980), Tenebrae (1982), Phenomena (1985), and Opera (1987); four films we both regard as belonging firmly within Argento's golden era, albeit for very different reasons.

We discuss Mario Bava's invaluable visual contributions to Inferno, marvel at Argento's uncanny ability to turn cats, rats, dogs, chimpanzees, and a flock of ravens into arbiters of murder, and celebrate Tenebrae as one of the most endlessly rewatchable Gialli ever made, packed with ingenious clues, glorious red herrings, and enough razor-blade carnage to satisfy the most blood-thirsty of horror fans

Sean declares his undying affection for Phenomena, revelling in its gloriously unhinged moments and fearless commitment to absolute lunacy. Steven... would love to enjoy it more, but his lifelong fear of insects keeps getting in the way.

Finally, we arrive at Opera: a breathtaking technical achievement featuring some of Argento's most inventive set pieces and one of his strongest murder mysteries. Steven considers it one of the director's finest hours, while Sean finds himself wishing its final act had landed with a little more conviction... and sense.

Stylish, surreal, blood-soaked, and unapologetically excessive, this is Argento firing on all cylinders. Every murder is a set piece, every clue is a trap, and every frame is painted like a nightmare.

The Italian Horror journey continues as Steven and Sean begin a brand-new five-part retrospective on the work of Dario Argento, charting his theatrical filmography decade by decade. With new episodes arriving fortnightly, we begin where it all started: the 1970s, the decade where Argento emerged with black-gloved killers, garish rooms, impossible camera movements, and enough stylised murder to permanently alter horror cinema.

For this first chapter we focus exclusively on Argento's theatrical horror and thriller output, leaving The Five Days and his television work on the sidelines, as we revisit The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, Cat O'Nine Tails, Four Flies on Grey Velvet, Deep Red, and Suspiria.

Ever the movie geeks they are, Steven and Sean come armed with plenty of background knowledge on both the films and Argento himself. Still, we attempt to approach these rewatches with fresh eyes and reassess what still works, what surprises us, and what decades of horror fandom may have built up in our minds.

There’s predictable admiration for Argento’s latter 70s masterpieces, with Deep Red and Suspiria receiving the sort of glowing praise they routinely inspire (expect the usual enthusiastic gushing over Suspiria). Elsewhere, battle lines are drawn over the Animals trilogy, with Steven proudly flying the flag for Cat O'Nine Tails, while Sean showers Four Flies on Grey Velvet with perhaps more affection than anyone reasonably should.

join us as we step into the first decade of one of horror cinema’s most influential and distinctive voices.

This month on Film Utopia, Sean drags a deeply reluctant Steven kicking and screaming into the blood-soaked world of cult Italian filmmaker Lucio Fulci. Sean, naturally, argues that Fulci was far more than just “the gore guy,” championing the dreamlike atmosphere, bleak surrealism, and nightmarish logic that made his films unlike anything else in horror cinema. Steven, meanwhile, stubbornly refuses to budge from his position that Fulci’s work is riddled with ropey dubbing, shonky production values, and unapologetic trashiness.

Thankfully, things remain surprisingly amicable as we work through a curated selection of Fulci’s horror, murder mystery, and Giallo work, including One on Top of the Other, A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin, Don’t Torture a Duckling, The Psychic, Zombie Flesh Eaters, City of the Living Dead, The Black Cat, The Beyond, The House by the Cemetery, The New York Ripper, Manhattan Baby, Conquest, Murder Rock, The Devil’s Honey, Aenigma, and A Cat in the Brain.

Along the way, we discuss Fulci’s evolution from stylish thriller director to the undisputed godfather of eyeball trauma, his fascination with surrealism and decay, his uneasy relationship with narrative coherence, and why his films continue to inspire horror fans decades later.

Dreamlike, gruesome, atmospheric, ridiculous, mesmerising. Lucio Fulci cinema is many things, but Steven would just prefer if at least one actor sounded like they were in the same room as each other.