In 1977, Italian horror director Dario Argento made Suspiria, which is arguably his best-known and best-loved film. In 1980, he released Inferno, which I haven't yet seen. I never realized until recently that these two films were the first and second parts of a proposed trilogy, the "Mother Trilogy." Apparently, these two ambitious, supernatural films didn't perform as well as expected and the money people encouraged Argento to go back to his simple giallo efforts. That he did, and he continued doing so for 27 years until finally he found his chance to complete his trilogy with the new Mother of Tears. Fortunately, all that time allowed his daughter Asia Argento (who was 2 years old when Suspiria was made) to grow up into a sexy actress who could star in his film.

Coincidentally, in many ways there's some similarity between Mother of Tears and Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather Part III (1990). They both took decades to produce after the first two parts were completed in close proximity; they both come from directors of Italian descent; and they both feature the director's daughters in the third installment. They're both disappointments in comparison to the originals, but taken on their own terms, they both work remarkably well.

I might add that on a purely technical level, Mother of Tears is so logically impaired, so clumsily written and so haphazardly designed that it should be one of the worst movies of the year. But on a less tangible level, one that considers elements like personality, poetry, energy and physicality, it's a sheer delight -- one of my absolute favorites, and one of the few 2008 films I'd gladly see again. You could say that it's one of those "so bad it's good" experiences, but it's also more. (Our own Scott Weinberg also enjoyed it; see his Toronto Film Festival review.)

A mysterious box is discovered in a graveyard and a pensive priest seals it with wax and ships it off to a Roman museum. Since their boss isn't around, Sarah (Asia Argento) and her colleague Giselle (Coralina Cataldi Tassoni) decide to open it. Giselle slices through the wax with a scalpel and slices her finger, spilling blood on the box (D'oh!). They remove several artifacts, including a red shroud. Just then, a mysterious beastie enters the room and slaughters Giselle, ripping her face to shreds and spilling her insides before completing the job.

Not long after, evil begins marauding all over the city. People begin killing babies, stabbing one another, or just dressing strange and laughing a lot. Sarah's boss and lover Michael (Adam James) loses his son to sadistic kidnappers (they leave a ransom note in blood). The police detective who investigates the museum murder very cleverly blames Sarah, and soon she's being chased by cops as well as by demons (scary girls with shaved eyebrows and too much makeup). Good thing that, whenever Sarah needs to get somewhere, she can usually find a perfectly normal cabbie or a punctual train with a competent driver and calm passengers.

It turns out that the "Mother of Tears" (Moran Atias) has returned to wreak havoc and that only Sarah can stop her. Like Harry Potter, Sarah discovers that although she thought her parents died in an accident, they were both supernatural crusaders; her mother was a powerful witch (who apparently died while battling the "second mother" in Inferno) and Sarah may have inherited some of her powers. Sarah consults a few more people, including a nervous priest played by Udo Kier, and a few more people are violently killed (some at the hands of an evil monkey!) before she discovers the secret hideout of the "Mother of Tears." This leads to the ridiculous showdown, complete with writhing nudity, depraved sex and various gruesome acts of torture and sadism. And despite her supposed powers, Sarah still needs rescuing -- by the very cop that accused her of murder in the first place!

Whenever possible, Argento resorts to old-school special effects with lots of latex, homemade blood and plastic dummies. The gore is always extreme; nobody dies quietly or with dignity, and there's lots of nudity, including a shower scene for Asia (kind of creepy considering that her father is behind the camera). Asia looks great running around in a black raincoat, but though she's a capable actress in other hands, she puts her talent on hold here. (In her defense, however, no one has ever given a great performance in an Argento film.)

All of these so-called drawbacks are familiar elements of Dario Argento's personality, and in his films they become assets. They set his films apart from other films. Watching them, I can see the fingerprints, and the blood, the sweat and the tears that went into every frame. Mother of Tears, as well as The Godfather Part III and yes, even Uwe Boll's In the Name of the King, should force us to re-define what we mean by "bad movies." In comparison to the majority of bland Hollywood widgets cranked out on a corporate conveyer belt, these mad, personal misfires are the real masterworks.