Category Archives: Drama

Film Review: Climax – 2018

Director(s)Gaspar Noé
Principal CastSofia Boutella as Selva
Romain Guillermic as David
Souheila Yacoub as Lou
Kiddy Smile as Daddy
Claude Gajan Maull as Emmanuelle
Thea Carla Schøtt as Psyché
Release Date2018
Language(s)French, English
Running Time 96 minutes

A woman crawls in the snow leaving bloody markings wherever her body moves. The camera follows her ragged, desperate movement and swirls around her as her body imprints a set of bloody snow angels into the previously white and pure backdrop. The camera slowly pans down passing over a tree, a torrent of branches unfolding in a rhizomatic pattern – an mazelike structure with infinite openings and endings.

Words pop up on the screen informing us the movie is dedicated to “makers who are no longer with us” before indicating that the movie is based on a real event that happened in France, during the winter of 1996. The text “existence is a fleeting illusion” pops up on the screen for a split second, its appearance as fleeting as the message it provides. Then the credits start to play. These first 3 minutes of Gaspar Noé’s climax tell the story of the entire movie while revealing absolutely nothing about what’s to come. A brief impression – violence, beauty, movement, text, beginning, ending, climax – that informs that audience that they are in fact watching a movie, not an illusion of reality.

The postmodern bent continues as the movie cuts to an old fashioned television set , one that you’d see back in ’96, surrounded by a collection of Noé’s favorite books and movies. Titles like Zulawski’s Possession and Argento’s Suspiria are present, letting you know the auteur’s influences and future direction. The screen shows the audition tapes of dancers who are trying out for a troupe. They’re questioned by two off screen presences, one of whom is Noé himself – a director who quite literally places himself in the movie, reminding us that the director’s voice is as part of the movie as anyone else.

Psyché (Thea Carla Schøtt) gives her interview on the TV screen surrounded by Noé’s favorite books and movies on both sides. Media within media – this is postmodern filmmaking that informs the audience that they’re watching a movie and the director is very much involved in it.

The dancers are asked a series of questions involving their relationship to dance, the meaning of what they do, what experiences they’ve had, what they look forward to, and so on. Each dancer only talks for a few moments, giving the audience a brief impression of them and their interests, as their answers reveal the importance of dance as a method of experiencing life and joy – a survival mechanism that lets the body transform into something else. They talk about drugs, sex, sexuality, and the way those elements permeate the dance scene turning the discussion and interview into one about dance as an assemblage – a mechanization of multiple moving parts interacting with the desire of the dancers. Like the tree shown in the introduction, dancing is a rhizome that’s infinitely malleable.

As if to demonstrate this thought the movie cuts from the interviews to a beautifully choregraphed dance sequence that showcases the talent of the dancers. Energetic music pulses through the background setting the stage for the wonderous number that’s about to commence. The camera glides and dips around from multiple different angles without ever cutting, reflecting the way bodies move in an constant ebb and flow among and within each other. Multiple bodies coalesce into a singular entity showcasing the transformative power of dance as a way to break down ones barriers. Finally the group breaks and the pseudo-protagonist of our movie, Selva, proclaims “God is with us”, indicating that the creativity and beauty of the dance piece is a form of spiritual praxis.

Now that the main piece is done, the dancers mingle about one another celebrating their achievement with a festive and joyous party. They drink sangria from the punch bowl and engage in celebration at their accomplishments. The camera follows members of the party (primarily Selva) as everyone interacts with one another. The movie takes the time to cut between different characters conversing with one another, giving the audience a chance to let their impressions of the characters from earlier fill out and grow. There’s an impromptu nature to the dialogue which gives it an earnest realness and helps serve as a contrast to the more extreme intrusions the movie has forced/will force upon us. After a while, the movie cuts to a long individual dance montage, where the dancers show themselves off as their peers crowd around them in a circle cheering whoever is dancing on. This will be the last reprieve before the terror of the movie sets in. At the end of the dance, the credits play again- another beginning, another ending, another climax.

The movie births a new scene that comprises the brunt of the run time and zooms in on a cup of sangria being taken from a pitcher. The focus on the drink is important, because unknown to the characters, the sangria is spiked with LSD and turns the peaceful and energetic party into a chaotic hellscape.

The sangria is a player in the process , helping each dancer lose their mask to reveal another self within. The camera showcases it’s a key agent in the depravity that unfolds.

Characters start to lose any and all inhibitions as they become increasingly prone to acting on emotion as opposed to any semblance of reason. They realize something is wrong and a group of them desperately try and figure out who spiked the sangria. The ensuing witch hunt is horrifying to watch, as characters are brutalized by mob style accusations and judgements. Meanwhile, other characters drift off in the background, some of them dancing as though the events occurring in other portions of the dance hall are of no importance to them while others wander aimlessly, struggling to keep an internal coherence.

All the while the neon colors bursting through every shot become threatening as opposed to comforting, highlighting the chaos of the setting. The dance music which previously felt so upbeat and energizing transforms into a pulsating terror, not because the songs or their tempo themselves change, but because the situation they’re playing in is so radically different. At one point, Sofia Boutella channels her inner Isabelle Adjani and performs her own rendition of the infamous Possession subway scene – one of the instances of Noé’s earlier winks to the audience coming to life in his own movie.

As her character struggles to find footing in the topsy-turvy environment, the camera suddenly turns upside down. The dancers who looked so majestic earlier turn into hellish figures, evoking images of gargoyles and other creatures of the night. A heaven turned into hell.

Bodies seem like demonic entities when filmed upside down and dancing, fully lost in a rhythm and energy that assaults the senses. The world is as upside down as everyone feels and the embrace of chaos transforms the dancers.

The story of Climax is the story of the Earth – a place of beauty and wonder that goes through bouts of chaos. The dancers represent the different facets of humanity – the good, the bad, the ugly, and the sublime. Their introductions at the beginning of the movies are their representations of themselves – a persona they inhabit and may genuinely believe is indicative of who they are. Dancing is their method of engagement, a way of living among and with each other. It can be beautiful and a sight to see or horrifying and something the eyes want to avert away from. The dancers’ deterioration is not so much a comment on drugs as it is on the hidden desires that lay buried beneath the masks we place. For some of us those desires are ugly, violent, and brutal. For others they’re beautiful, quiet, and loving. Noé ensures this message is clear by ensuring that some of the characters do not partake in the sangria. Their behavior matching those of their peers reflects that these transformations in personality are not substance based, but rather another side, a birth of a new self marked by the death of some other self. The movie even tells us this directly. Near the start of the movie the words “birth is a unique opportunity” pop on the screen. Near the end of the movie the words” death is an extraordinary experience” show up. Life and death- two sides of the same coin – an interplay everything and everybody constantly goes through because stability is fleeting.

The constant interruptions of sections of the movie by either the words or by the presence of new credits tells the audience that every act should be seen as the birth of a new story. Every story has a beginning, middle, and end with its own respective climax. As the movie demonstrates near the end of its runtime, the scene we see at the start of the movie is really the end- a story that starts with a climax and ends with a climax. For what is a climax? A culmination and development of a thread into something spectacular. But if everything lives and dies, if every moment is the birth of something new and the death of what came before, then every second is a climax of its own sort. This is the beauty of the movie – it demonstrates this idea in every way possible, from the structure of the story to the way scenes play out. It’s all a climax and as such it’s all open to the possibility of creativity and/or chaos.

Dance is the vehicle by which the movie explores this idea and Noé uses his impeccable technical skill to translate this idea into an experience. One does not walk away from Climax without going through some intense feelings, whether those feelings are of excitement at the beauty and creative explosion present or disgust and misery at the pain that’s on display. The focus on the movement of the dancers and the constant and energetic soundtrack makes the movie a feast for the eyes and ears. There’s always something visually interesting happening on screen, even if it terrifying. The neon color palette is breathtaking and drips through every single frame.

The incredibly long takes keeps the experience continuous, never giving the audience a moment to breathe or think. This is experiential filmmaking at its finest. I can totally understand people who dislike this movie and see it as a series of random events and dialogue that seemingly proceeds in a haphazard manner. Likewise, I can understand people who hate the movie because of how miserable it ends up feeling. It goes to some dark and disturbing places. But to me, that’s life. It’s a random scattered set of experiences with some semblance of order that is then constantly interpreted by us as we move along its path. There’s good and bad and everything in between. This is a movie that captures that essence and makes everything from the structure of the movie to the narrative proper reflect that feeling.

None of the movie would be possible without the cult of personalities presented by the actors, most of whom have never acted before this. Obviously Boutella is excellent and serves as a kind of character anchor the audience follows to help keep them from getting too lost in the chaotic world Noé creates. Anyone who can do Adjani’s chaotic acting from Possession justice deserves kudos and Boutella nails it. But she’s an actor. It’s no surprise that she can act well. What is surprising is a large majority of the primarily dancer cast is able to keep up with her energy and ability to flip a switch the moment shit hits the fan. The cast is huge, but every single member of it exudes their own unique set of traits that makes them all interesting to follow in their own right. Maull nails a constant anxiety and fear that makes her character seem jumpy and unconfident. Schøtt brings an apathy and an off-kilter vibe that makes Psyché feel like a force of nature more than an actual person. Smile brings a sense of comfort and authority to his aptly named character, Daddy. I could go on and on, but the point is every actor brings something new to the mix giving Climax a surprising amount of depth. In fact, every time I watch the movie I focus on another one of the characters and follow whatever they’re doing when the movie pans to them. Are they embracing creativity or chaos ? How are they acting compared to their previous interview and/or conversations from the earlier acts of the movie? Because of how much time is spent letting the actors breathe life into their characters, you can come away from movie having gotten a plethora of different “narratives”, showcasing the themes mentioned above.

The genius of Climax is despite being unabashedly artistic, experimental, in your face, and provocative it still manages to have time to answer the mystery of who spiked the sangria – saving the reveal for the very last moment of the movie. Based on all previous information, the reveal is poetic and gives the movie a neo-giallo kind of feeling behind all the music and dance. There’s a “masked” killer (the mask being the persona the killer use) whose plans end up causing tremendous amounts of violence, characters desperately try to figure out who the character is with no real success, and the movie ends on the killer’s reveal without ever giving away their motivations, leaving that interpretation up the audience. Having a narrative that ends with an actual answer on top of doing everything else in between is testament to Noé’s strength as an auteur. He doesn’t forget to deal with the main plot despite seemingly not being all at that interested in it.

Now while I think of Climax as an audio-visual poem that uses its dancers as different stanzas in a tale about life, I don’t think the movie is for everyone. I do think those who dislike Noé’s earlier works might find something interesting in this. However, I don’t think those who like a conventional narrative will enjoy this. There is a story. There is a buildup. There is a conclusion. But the movie is more focused on feeling like an experience than giving you a coherent tale. It’s very much inspired by the French New Wave (the movie even tells the audience in one of its text/phrase cutaways that it’s a French film and it’s proud of it) and doesn’t hesitate to let the audience know that this is a movie. It intentionally wants to get a rise out of you. Noé is a provocateur and wants you to feel uneasy and miserable. A lot of people call this movie an exercise in style as opposed to substance and while I disagree as evidenced by my adoration above, I can understand that point of view if you’re coming into it expecting a well-structured story with a clear plot. If you’re someone who enjoys art house proclivities and want an experience that ferociously comes at your sense this is the movie for you. If not, go watch something else. The world is open to infinite possibilities. Go and embrace whatever suits your fancy.

REPORT CARD

TLDRClimax is an audio-visual experience that demonstrates that style can absolutely be substance. It’s a cinematic poem that explores the multiplicity of life in both its creative splendor and its ability to fall into depravity. The narrative eschews tradition in favor of embracing its themes in every way possible from slides of words that interrupt the action to constantly playing a different version of the credits at interesting points in the movie. All of this is done in service of demonstrating that life is a constant process of birth and death- an infinite series of climaxes where anything can happen. The dance sequences are mesmerizing and the music is hypnotic. The depravity is heartbreaking and revolting without ever losing its sense of beauty. Shots are draped in neon colors and constant movement which makes every moment visually arresting. The story of a dance troupe falling into disarray after drinking spiked sangria is only a small portion of the movie despite “being” the main narrative. To get the full experience, you have to be willing to take a leap of faith into Noé’s rhizomatic world.
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report

Film Review: Antichrist – 2009

Director(s)Lars von Trier
Principal CastWillem Dafoe as Him
Charlotte Gainsbourg as Her
Release Date2009
Language(s)English
Running Time 108 minutes

Beautiful black and white compositions envelop the screen. An operatic musical theme, Lascia ch’io pianga, plays in the background. A couple played by Dafoe and Gainsburg make passionate love, genitals on full display. A moment of vitality. A moment of life. Unknown to them, their child leaves his crib. He wanders off towards to a work desk upon which three figures sit. These are the three beggars that will make up and divide the progression of the movie into its chapters: grief, pain, and suffering. The movie cross cuts between the images of the parents in the throes of sexual passion – their faces matched to similar expressions by their son as he climbs up onto the windowsill above the desk and makes the plunge below.

A moment of death during a moment of happiness. Good and bad juxtaposed against one another. Are they independent of one another or does the presence of one necessitate the other? This attempt to find meaning in the face of such pain serves as the thematic thrust that moves the story along as the couple attempts to deal with their newfound loss.

The nameless couple grieves for the loss of their son as the movie turns from black and white to a muted color palette that reflects the loss of light in their life. The formalistic compositions give way to a handheld camera that reflects this newfound chaotic injection. The male, an agent of rationality, sees the events as separate and attempts to systematize the chaotic turbulence he and his wife are experiencing. The death of their son is a tragedy , but is not the end of the world. The female, an agent of emotion, sees the events as inextricably tied to each other and struggles to understand how such evil can happen in a world. How can a child be lost so easily? While He gets over the death fairly quickly his wife slips into a state of depressive anxiety. She experiences twitching eyes, dryness in her throats, a reining in the ears, sweating on her neck, and shaking in her fingers. As the physical manifestations of her suffering wreak havoc on her body her husband reminds her that she’s not going through anything metaphysical. It’s all just a physical response to an event. It’s rooted in the naturalistic world of science and as such should be codified through the symbolic registers of psychology. His attempts at help can be read as heartfelt attempts at helping his partner. They can also be read as an misogynistic attempt at controlling her behavior as he dictates what she “really thinks” and really feels, ignoring her feelings in favor of his own interpretations.

She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) experiences an anxiety attack and is put off by the strong physicals response to her suffering. Her husband quickly codes the images of her suffering as just symptoms of anxiety, casting aside the pain as a natural medical phenomenon in an attempt to explain it.


The movie even reflects this feeling early on when he convinces her to stop receiving care from a hospital in lieu of engaging in therapy with him. He is after all a psychologist who’s better than any doctors. How could he not know his own wife better than trained professionals? The film breaks the 180 rule (maintain the spatial placement of actors and the direction they’re facing) by having him occupy the space his wife is in, demonstrating that he’s taking charge of the situation. It reflects the way her agency is placed to the wayside as she’s made to reflect the desire and whims of her partner. This battle for agency, for determining who’s view of the world is correct, becomes the backdrop the movie plays on.

In an attempt to get her back to normal, he decides to take the two of them to their cabin located in woods, aptly titled Eden. In the Bible, Adam and Eve, a he and she, are cast aside from the forest for eating the fruit of knowledge and to prevent them from eating the fruit of life. In this tale, he and she, go to the forest to confront an irrationality concerning an cruel death. A paradise for the progenitors who are supposed to be ignorant becomes the destination for healing a similar couple through the power of knowledge. With a title like Antichrist, it’s hard not to come into the movie thinking it will be about faith and religion, but that thought quickly gives way as it becomes clear that the movie is Von Trier’s response to the problem of Evil.

How can evil exist in a world where God is the creator? How could a good and righteous entity focused on the preservation of peaceful bliss allow chaos to reign. This is alternative theology, enacted by two nameless characters who serve as a stand in for men and women in general, that plays like an inversion and deconstruction of the tale of Genesis. The three beggars parallel the three wise men. He is a stand- in for Adam. She is a stand-in for Eve. Eden is a place of fear as opposed to a paradise. The religious background and connections are never made explicit but merely serve as the thematic heft that makes the story progress from beat to beat. The psychological violence He hurls at Her at the beginning in his attempts to psychoanalyze her are met with her similar physical attempts at violence in the latter half of this movie. Speaking of which, if the dying baby at the start didn’t give it away, the movie goes to some fairly dark and depressing places and that’s reflected in some intense and brutal scenes of violence. However, given the progression and beats the story delves into this violence is necessary and though its depiction is graphic, it never comes off feeling gratuitous or without a purpose.

The main conflict between the He and She reminds me of the main couples’ dilemma from Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now (rationalism vs affective connection in the face of a child’s death) combined with the couple from Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession (metaphysical tug of war for control in the relationship). Like both of those movies, the performances from the main actors are astounding with both of them clearly giving 110%. Dafoe is unrelenting in his attempts at maintain control of the situation but plays it off in a way that feels understandable . There are misogynic tones if you read into the way he acts, but at a surface level glance his actions feel relatable to an extent. The balancing act to simultaneously be an asshole but not deplorable is a tough one one to find, but he somehow manages to deliver it. Gainsbourg absolutely channels a shrieking devastation going from riddled with anxiety and being panicked to becoming strangely unnerving and unhinged as the movie progresses to its natural conclusion. Her emotional intensity provides a sharp contrast with Dafoe’s and helps clearly delineate the couple’s thoughts and subsequent actions. Some of the actions she takes in the latter portion of the movie might feel overblown but feel authentic due to her precision and execution. Together they infuse the movie with the emotional energy it needs to hit the devastating punches it delivers to the audience.

Likewise the cinematography by Anthony Dod Mantle and musical choices by Kristian Eidnes Andersen give the movie a texture that lets it ooze out a palpable discomfort. Mantle deftly switches from handheld during the realistic and grounded scenes to a steady and formalistic style during the surreal and dreamlike sequences. Going from the character’s talking to one another to their respective headspaces creates a poignant whiplash that keeps audiences on their toes while providing a visual splendor that feels revolting giving what’s going on. This movie makes the death of a child look beautiful and if that’s not saying something I don’t know what is. Andersen provides less of a score and more of an impressionistic musical accompaniment to the visuals. Outside of the operatic theme that plays during the beginning and ending of the movie, there’s less of a discernible score and more of a rhythmic feeling that amplifies the disturbing visuals on display. Never does this use of music overwhelm the scene. Instead, it operates in the background like wallpaper for the ears, giving the movie an auditory texture that keeps it flowing.

Antichrist isn’t a movie for everybody. It’s dark and goes to emotional places that won’t leave you in the most pleasant place after the viewing experience. The psychological beatings from the first half will make those who have been victims of gaslighting feel a certain kind of way. The physical violence from the second half will certainly induce a squeamish anxiety that will refuse to settle. However, those who are willing to endure the provocations will find a moving and thought provoking look into humanity, it’s place in the world, and the species attempts at finding meaning in a chaotic and unforgiving world.

Report Card

TLDRAntichrist is my favorite horror movie of the 2000’s decade (2000- 2009) for good reason. The dark and unsettling tale plays like a response to the classical philosophical problem o f evil – how can God be reconciled in a world where evil and chaos seem to strike at every opportunity? How can evil can strike at the most peaceful of times ? The death of a child cut against the lovemaking session of the child’s parents set the question in motion and watching the grieving couple navigate the labyrinth of meaning to find an answer is something that has to be experienced. The performances by the unnamed leads are emotionally resonant and each actor brings their A game to this alternative theology. If you can stomach some graphic violence and enjoy movies with arthouse proclivities, strap in for this one of a kind ride.
Rating10/10
GradeA+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .

 

Review: Swallow

Director(s)Carlo Mirabella-Davis
Principal CastHaley Bennett as Hunter Conrad
Austin Stowell as Richie Conrad
Elizabeth Marvel as Katherine Conrad
David Rasche as Michael Conrad

Laith Nakli as Luay
Release Date2019
Language(s)English
Running Time 94 minutes

Rotten Tomatoes describes this movie as an “unconventional approach to exploring domestic ennui” in its Critics Consensus section. After having seen the movie twice, I can say this summation is anything but accurate. A movie about domestic ennui would explore the way a subject feels a sense of purposelessness in relation to their household/household duties. Swallow is so much more that and plays out more like a character study of newlywed wife, Hunter, succumbing to the pressures of performing to her new husband,Richie, and his family’s expectations developing pica, a condition characterized by eating inedible objects, as a result. It’s not that shes bored with her “duties” and is listlessly wandering around trying to find something to do so she dabbles with eating inedible objects for fun. It’s more so that the pressures and expectations she’s put under compounded with with pre-existing underlying issues leads to her eating as a psychological response to the alienation and trauma she’s processing.

As someone who loves horror, I rarely find myself scared to the point of wanting to look away while watching . This movie is an exception and makes Hunter’s acts of swallowing inedible objects absolutely painful to watch. It’s not just that the objects themselves are threatening and dangerous looking, which they are; it’s that the sequences play and build upon circumstances that could really happen. Pica is a real condition that’s been documented. As someone who’s loved eating ice since I was a kid, the idea of being inexplicably drawn to eat something dangerous is a genuine fear of mine. Likewise, an awful family/in-law situation stressing out a new wife is something that a lot of people can relate to. Grounded rules and situations like these are why the movie works. The circumstances that make up the “scare” sequences are grounded in reality and relatable enough so the uncomfortable moments feel like they could happen to someone we know, if not us outright.

Every action that Hunter takes, has an emotional undercurrent that drips off the screen and makes you invested in her journey and what happens to her. This is all because of Haley Bennet’s performance, without which movie would fail to work. She starts off so eager to please, trying to fill in the roles that her passive aggressive husband and in-laws expect her to. There’s a genuine earnestness in how she tries to curry favor. Likewise, her dejection and respective attempts to regain adoration are painful to watch because the conclusion feels almost foregone. When she eats her first object, there’s a mystery in her eyes as she decides to ultimately take the plunge. Then when she accomplishes her task the delight and genuine happiness she feels radiates (accompanied by some upbeat snazzy tunes). It gives these moments a perverse feeling. You know they’re wrong. They’re painful. But for her, they almost feel like escapes from the emotional and psychological hellscape she finds herself in. Such eccentric behavior could come off as just creepy, but instead comes off as kind of endearing. As the stakes ramp up so does her emotional range and it’s quite a trip to see where she ends up by the end of the movie.

The movie is also gorgeous to look at. There are certain scenes that are draped with a rich red and a deep blue akin to something out of Suspiria (a movie I genuinely love). It gives the movie a phantasmic feeling as the colors drape over Hunter during long takes that linger on her expression. I love the use of close up shots of objects and Hunter’s reactions to them generate an incredible amount of unease and tension despite it being obvious as to what she’s going to do. I also genuinely appreciate the way the characters are blocked off in group encounters. The way the Conrad family is positioned to Haley often highlights the discrepancy in their power and reinforces the underlying nature of what the “family’s” relationship really is.

Unfortunately, while the movie’s ambitions are lofty, the execution in the latter half of the movie leaves a lot to be desired. There are sprinkles of greatness, but they feel rushed and haphazard. There’s a pivot in the third act that feels like it could have hit the mark if it was set up and developed better, but unfortunately feels unearned. It’s not that I think everything needed to be explained. It’s more that I think the plot elements that the third act tries to build on aren’t present enough to justify the importance they’re given. This is a shame because the ideas driving the ending make a lot of sense from a thematic perspective. Isolated, I like them a lot. Unfortunately, in the context of the narrative they feel like bits tacked on to the end as opposed to natural extensions of the story.

REPORT CARD

TLDRSwallow is a wonderfully unique horror that focuses on real grounded scares as opposed to tired tried cliches. Somehow the story of a newlywed with a snooty wealthy husband and in-laws developing an odd eating condition wherein she eats dangerous inedible objects is incredibly relatable and touching. I found myself earnestly invested and horrified as a result. (I averted my eyes more than once on my first watch through.) Sure there are some rough patches namely, a third act that I think was rushed compared to the rest of the story, but the movie is genuinely unique. Thought it doesn’t always hit its marks, its unique blend of body and psychological horror is one that I’ll be thinking about for a long time.
Rating8.8/10
GradeB+

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Review: Summer of 84

Director(s)François Simard
Anouk Whissell
Yoann-Karl Whissell
Principal CastGraham Verchere as Davey
Judah Lewis as Eats
Caleb Emery as Woody
Cory Gruter-Andrew as Farraday
Tiera Skovbye as Nikki
Rich Sommer as Officer Mackey
Release Date2018
Language(s)English
Running Time 106 minutes

After the absolute blast that was 2015’s Turbo Kid, I was more than excited when I saw the writer-director trio behind it had made this 80’s inspired horror mystery about a group of high schoolers trying to track down a local serial killer. Though it didn’t quite reach the peaks of the trio’s first movie, Summer of 84 has more than enough heart , spirit, and tension to entertain genre fans or people looking for a well-executed murder mystery story.

The story follows Davey, a 15 year old paperboy neck deep in conspiracy theories, who starts to suspect his friendly neighborhood cop, Officer Mackey, might actually be the dreaded serial killer terrorizing his small suburban neighborhood. Hungry to get to the bottom of the case, he enlists the help of his friends: Eats,Woody, and Farrady. What stands out the most about the group of four is how well defined they are as individuals and in relation to one another. Their conversations feel like they have a genuine history and weight behind them even if at times its just a series of quips back and forth. Davey, on top of being the conspiracy theorist of the group , is also the one most invested in the excitement the morbid situation presents him and his otherwise sheltered suburban life.Eats is the typical abrasive loud-mouth of the group. Woody is nervous, loyal, and defensive about his Mom. Farrady is know-it-all of the group. These characteristics might be interesting in end of themselves, but their origins reveal a lot more. Angst doesn’t just come from somewhere; there’s always circumstance that informs it. Discovering what that background is is what the movie is all about.

Davey tells the audience as much in a voice-over near the beginning of the story where he warns that anything that could be happening behind anyone’s closed doors and you’d never know. The normal and routine could just be a smokescreen or deflection to cover up something more sinister. Or it could just be that- normal and routine. The story explores this idea not only through the mystery and investigation at the heart of the narrative but also in the way background details regarding different characters get revealed. For example, Davey learns that his former babysitter’s parents are getting divorced when his dad casually lets it slip that he heard something. It’s telling in how quickly they all accept the news almost like we hear what we want to hear. In a world where we quickly accept or deny information based on how well it coheres with other facts we process, how easy is it for an action to be construed as being intended in one way verse another? Watching the characters wrangle with that question is what keeps the movie entertaining. Even as someone who thought the ending felt predictable, I didn’t feel upset because I think the movie is deft in how it applies this sense of misdirection up until the big reveal.

Speaking of misdirection, Rich Sommer deserves a serious round of applause for playing the main suspect, Officer Mackey, with just the right amount of ambiguity. Every action he takes feels like it could either be malicious or it could just coincide with regular behavior. The way he emotes simultaneously feels genuine and for a specific purpose and trying to figure out whether or not he’s really the killer places you directly in the protagonist’s corner only to take you out of it again. If he wasn’t capable of switching from charming to menacing at the flip of the hat the mystery at the heart of the movie would never work.

If you’re a fan of 80’s inspired music and references, this movie has them in spades. The sound is synthy and hypnotic like you’d expect and I snapped along to the music more than once. The terror and danger of the situation the boys get themselves into during their mystery is conveyed almost perfectly through the tenser tracks that had my heart pumping in anticipation. Don’t worry if you’re annoyed of the 80’s aesthetic ; it’s never forced down the audience’s throat. Yes the characters talk about Episode VI and Gremlins but it only happens once.

My biggest issue with the movie is the ending. It felt predictable and even thought it was executed to a T, I expected more. The issue is at a certain point it becomes obvious that the story is kind of locked into certain paths which makes guesswork easier.There’s one scene that’s left in the second act that almost feels like the directors intentionally letting the audience know who to suspect. That being said watching it all come together in the third act is immensely satisfying because it plays on the depths of what you’ve learned up till that point as opposed to pulling any new twists or turns. It’s subversion done well and to an an effective degree. I just wish the lead up to it involved more red herrings and the story went off into zanier directions to force the characters and the audience to confront their biases in a more rushed and frantic way.

REPORT CARD

TLDRSummer of 84 is an 80’s fueled murder mystery that prioritizes mood and atmosphere over visceral scares in its exploration of the way we mediate our public image and likewise attempt to understand what others “really” mean by their public images . From the dynamic synthy-techno score to the fleshed out and realistic characters, it’s clear that a lot of love and care went into making the movie feel aesthetically on point without sacrificing nuance or personal identity. Thought it doesn’t tick of all my boxes , the movie’s fun ,energy, and willingness to experiment more than justifies a watch.
Rating9.4/10
GradeA

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Review: Ouija: Origin of Evil

Director(s)Mike Flanagan
Principal CastElizabeth Reaser as Alice
Annalise Basso as Lina
Lin Shaye as old Lina
Lulu Wilson as Doris
Henry Thomas as Father Tom
Release Date2016
Language(s)English
Running Time 99 minutes

I actually watched this movie before Ouija, the ill conceived first movie, in the hopes of better understanding incongruities that appear in the last 20 minutes. After having finished the first movie, all I can say is Mike Flanagan deserves a lot of credit for giving one of the most vapid and forgettable horror movies of recent years an emotionally resonant backstory that somehow makes the original movie a little bit better. It’s hard enough to make a good movie let alone one that elevates a poor one which makes this sequel-prequel all the more rare.

Unlike the first movie, the prequel sequel makes full use of its first scene. Alice, the matriarch of our main family, is in the middle of a seance with an elderly man and his daughter. As the ceremony continues, things become more fantastical and it feels like a supernatural presence is there. Every time the daughter expresses skepticism, the presence grows along with her father’s faith in the process. It’s a tense introduction that’s made all the better when you realize that Alice is running a con service. All the paranormal events are just the result of a tricked out room and the help of her two daughters. It’s effective because it baits us into expecting scares from the start, while establishing our main family’s background as well-meaning con-artists. In 10 minutes, Flanagan manages to give his characters more of a backstory than the entirety of what Ouija does to develop its main lead.

In fact, the story takes its time establishing character motivations, essential relationships, and sources of conflict to ensure that subsequent scares have significance. When things get first get harrowing close to the 40 minute mark, you’re already invested in the family and their tribulations. They may be running a con, but they don’t do it maliciously. They’re just struggling to get along, weighed down by tragedies from the past and the financial struggles that accompany them. After the supernatural events turn more sinister, you feel for the family and root for them, even as the twists and turns start to get more ridiculous by the end of the movie. Because Flanagan doesn’t rely on cheap jump scares , there’s always a palpable sense of tension looming in the air. There’s no cheap outlet for that anxiety to so when something terrifying does happen it hits with a real momentum.

Every single main performance is on point. Even exposition scenes feel less boring and artificial because of how serious and solemnly the information is delivered. When the nature of the main horror is revealed, it definitely feels nonsensical and less developed in comparison to the well-crafted family story at the heart of the movie, but I found myself caring in spite of all of that because of how much energy the actors take in conveying the situation. In particular, Lulu Wilson absolutely kills it as Doris. She starts off innocent, not even aware that her family’s main source of income is a scam. She genuinely thinks the spiritual services her mother offers and that her sister and her help with are real. However, after she becomes influenced by the dark presence in her house, she’s actually scary. I mean legitimately frightening. She has one monologue in the latter half of the movie that still hasn’t left my mind and chills me to my bones every-time I watch it.

Now in spite of my praises, I did think the movie suffered from serious story issues in the last chunk. Because it has to set up the first movie, it’s forced into story choices that undermine a lot of the overarching themes and the logic of the supernatural events occurring. While some of these decisions could have been done better (I personally think the underlying source of the haunting is hackneyed and disappointing), I don’t think they ruin the movie. If I had to describe the situation, it’s similar to Wonder Women in that its great first and second act are marred by a less than satisfying third act. It’s not that the movie is bad. It’s just disappointing because of where it could’ve gone. If anything, I wish that this was an independent movie that had nothing to do with Ouija so the third act could’ve developed in a natural way unencumbered by any storytelling restrictions.

REPORT CARD

TLDROuija: Origin of Evil is a surprisingly well thought out family drama turned supernatural horror that’s less about the ouija board than the title would let on. Though it’s hampered by having to set up it’s predecessor, Ouija, it somehow manages to still deliver some shocking and scary moments that’ll keep you invested in what’s to come.
Rating8.6/10
GradeB+

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Review: The Lodge

Director(s)Veronika Franz
Severin Fiala
Principal CastRiley Keough as Grace
Jaeden Martell as Aidan
Lia McHugh as Mia
Richard Armitage as Richard
Release Date2019
Language(s)English
Running Time 108 minutes

The moment I saw the trailer for this movie and realized that Franz and Fiala were attached to the project , I waited with baited breath till the movie came to my area (which thankfully it did). Though it doesn’t reach the same heights as the duo’s debut feature, Goodnight Mommy, it’s still a standout in a sea of boring and uninspired horrors. The Lodge may fumble with the logic of some its grander narrative decisions, but it more than makes up for that with the dark,twisted offerings it has in store.

The movie follows a family on retreat to a winter cabin. When work events come up, the father, Richard, is forced to leave his children alone with his new girlfriend, Grace. There’s an immediate tension between the two parties as Grace tries to be amicable with her partner’s children who seem to want nothing to do with her. After a blizzard strands the party in the cabin, things start going bump in the night and Grace is forced to deal with the unpredictable and tumultuous state of affairs. Based on the first 10 minutes of the movie, which are absolutely shocking, I knew I was in for a brutal experience.

Unlike their first movie, this one revels in teasing the audience with what’s really going on. There’s deception and layers to deception that’ll have you constantly questioning what’s happening. I came in with some initial ideas and then was hit with switch-ups that I genuinely did not see coming. It culminates in some of the most twisted stuff I’ve seen on the big screen in a long time. This is not the movie you want to see if you’re trying to have a good time or forget about the worries of your day. The story is dark and explores the deepest, most intimate parts of the human condition. It focuses on grief, depression, and heaping doses of internalized resentment and how those elements disrupt and warp our ability to properly evaluate the proper course of action. That being said, the way certain twists are executed border on neigh unbelievable given the information the audience is presented. In their attempt to create twists that are impossible to predict, Franz and Fiala are forced to really stretch logic in ways that’ll have sticklers for rules in movies feeling frustrated. This is a story driven movie with interesting characters that’s more focused on getting to the shocking thematic and viscerally unpleasant scenes than developing the underlying logic as to why those things are happening in the first place.

While the characters aren’t as developed as I would have liked, the performances of the actors playing them are refined and accentuate the tension and uncomfortable nature of the situation. Both Martell and McHugh manage to show their disdain for their dad’s new lover in their own unique and petty ways, from the silent treatment to the mean side-eye. Their obvious care and affection for one another leaps off the screen and it’s completely believable that they’re siblings struggling to find their footing in the world. Likewise, Keough manages to portray the range of emotions any desperate person would do trying to impress their partner’s kids going from enthusiastic to laid back to assertive. At the same time, she shows the cracks in her psyche as the blizzard and her isolation continue. Given the nature of the twists ,the twists within twists, and so on, it’s even more impressive just how well everyone managed to keep the nature of the mystery under wraps until just the right moment.

Unfortunately, despite being stylish and packed with scenes I won’t be able to get out of my head for the foreseeable future, one of the movie’s bigger reveals feels like it comes out of left field. I don’t want to spoil anything because the movie should be seen with absolutely no knowledge of any of the mystery, but I think the way everything pans out feels undeserved at some level. If the movie spent another 10-15 minutes developing character backgrounds, tightening up the references to Christianity, and making better use of a dollhouse set that’s used to transition between scenes it would’ve been up there with some of very best. The elements are all there. It’s just that they’re not meshing all the way through.

REPORT CARD

TLDRThe Lodge is as dark as it is twisted in its depiction of how grief and hatred warp our perception of the world. The story of a new girlfriend trying to get her partner’s kids to open up to her goes places you won’t be able to un-see and will manage to chill you even if the setup feels over-the-top at times.
Rating9.0/10
Grade A

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Review: The Invitation

Director(s)Karyn Kusama
Principal CastLogan Marshall-Green as Will
Tammy Blanchard as Eden
Michiel Huisman as David
Emayatzy Corinealdi as Kira
Release Date2015
Language(s)English
Running Time 100 minutes

As someone who enjoyed Jennifer’s Body quite a lot on release, I was excited when I saw that the director, Karyn Kusama, was making another horror movie, The Invitation, and eagerly waited for it to get a wider release. I thought the movie was interesting the first time, but felt slightly let down by the time the mystery at the heart of the story was fully revealed. However, on subsequent watches I’ve come to appreciate just how meticulous the twists and turns of the story are hidden and revealed and genuinely love the way the whole thing plays out.

The story follows Will and Kira, a couple on their way to visit Will’s ex-wife, Eden, at the former couple’s old house. Immediately, the story feels off. The idea of an ex inviting their former lover and respective partner just feels strange and the story makes that feeling pronounced before we even get to the house. When Will and Kira arrive, the former is greeted by a host of familiar faces and it’s clear that there’s a lot of shared history between the people present. As initial conversations play out, it’s made apparent that the group split apart due to some traumatic event and the night is a kind of reconciliation of sorts. Except something is wrong. Or maybe nothing is wrong.

The movie takes its sweet time getting to the answers and prefers to steep in mystery and misdirection. There are multiple scenes where instinctively it feels like something is horribly off. You can feel the horror set-up, but the movie never gives you the satisfaction of letting you know if the set up was obvious on purpose to misdirect or if it’s the cliche proper. The ambiguity never lets up. This mystery is made more immersive because Will, our protagonist and main point of contact, shares the exact same concerns. It’s almost like he’s watched horror movies and gets antsy in the situations we’re nervous in. We don’t need to scream at the characters, when a character in the movie is willing to do it for us. Except it’s made apparent early on that Will may not be as reliable as we’d hope. The use of dream sequences, cuts from the past to reality, and the constant juxtaposition of Will’s uneasiness with the rest of the group’s general lax and nonchalant attitude to the situations presented had me questioning if I was the crazy one for relating to him.

This is a movie about survival in more ways than one. Given the circumstances leading to the fated gathering, it’s not hard to imagine that certain parties would be nervous about attending, especially Will. As certain moments unfold, that suspicion gets stronger. However, just like most of us are taught in real life, the characters politely disregard stranger moments in favor of maintaining social unity. If nothing’s too off, then it’s okay to acquiesce to some oddities to keep the peace. The question is just how odd to let things get before acting. Has society made us so fearful that we take even innocent actions as suspicious enough to pull the trigger on or are we so polite that we’d let people get away with blatantly problematic behavior without ever butting in? Both sides are real and something a lot of us have had to deal with. The movie toes the line between the concepts in a way that’s somehow tense in the moment but poetic to think about.

Despite being a movie mainly about a series of conversations, the movie never feels boring or uninteresting. The off-putting characters are strange enough to make you look twice but never do anything to verify suspicions. The more relatable characters constantly ease and mellow out suspicions, even if their outlook on events feels a bit absurd at times. It adds up to a slow, atmospheric mystery that builds to a sudden reveal at which point the movie goes at a breakneck pace to a stunning, well-earned conclusion.

REPORT CARD

TLDRThe Invitation is a mystery that doesn’t stop surprising till its very end. You know the story of a man and his girlfriend being invited to his ex-wife’s (and his former) house for a shindig after a traumatic event left the couple and their friends devastated is going to deliver something different, but the movie excels in making you ask what that is. The movie’s discussion of survival in relation to trauma and suspicion is interesting and has only become more relevant in our increasingly diverse society. If you can handle a long build-up and enjoy atmospheric horrors, this is for you.
Rating9.3/10
Grade A

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Review: Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Director(s)Céline Sciamma
Principal CastNoémie Merlant as Marianne
Adèle Haenel as Heloise
Luàna Bajrami as Sophie
Release Date2019
Language(s)French
Running Time 120 minutes

Marianne, a young painter, is hired to paint the portrait of Heloise, a member of the French aristocracy for the latter’s future husband to be. The catch? She has to do it in secret without Heloise finding out because the not-so-blushing bride to be has no desire to get married. As a result she’s hired on as a companion and is forced to steal glances at her subject and commit them to memory in an effort to paint them later. What follows is a forbidden romance as the our two leading ladies guide us through a discussion of art, the relationship of the painter vs the subject, love, desire, and the functions of our gaze. It’s one of the most touching love stories I’ve had the pleasure of watching and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I saw it last night.

The movie is slow and deliberately paced to give every moment importance. Dialogue is slow and deliberate. Often times our leading ladies talks slowly and meticulously, accentuating the importance of the few lines of spoken dialogue that happen throughout the film. Most times conversation takes place through the series of gazes. Early on Marianne has to take note of Heloise’s features without coming off as too obvious. Meanwhile, the Heloise steals glances of the the painter-in-disguise when she’s looking away. As the relationship progresses so does the nature of the gaze. It’s genuinely amazing just how much of the story can be felt and told in this way. Both Merlant and Haenel knock it out of the park in how well they manage to convey their thoughts and emotions in their eyes. You can tell exactly what wavelength they’re on emotionally, independently, and as a couple growing more deeply in love. The desire inherent in what they’re looking at tells the real story of what’s happening between the two. Their chemistry radiates off the screen and the build-up to more crucial moments is well worth the long wait time.

On top of being rich from a narrative standpoint, the movie is packed to the brim with interesting themes. At one level the movie is about the relationship between the painter and their subject. Usually when we think of art, we think of the artist rendering the subject into a piece of art. The subject is stripped of agency and becomes an object to be transformed. However, as the painter glances at the subject, the subject glances back at the painter and a similar kind of understanding is created. At another level the movie is a profound critique of the way women are forced into social positions where their desire is redirected against their will and offers methods of overcoming those situations in realistic ways. The way that these ideas mix together in relation to each other and to the nature of a forbidden romance is touching and has given more than enough to think about. The brilliance of the movie is how each of these moments is seamlessly layered into the larger tapestry of the movie in a way that flows with the story.

Finally, as if you needed another reason, this is one of the prettiest movies I’ve ever seen. Every shot is bursting with color and the color palette on display is vibrant and highly distinct. The movie’s never boring to look at and as the island the characters are on is traversed more, the changes in scenery keep every moment feeling fresh. Every single detail is visible up to the strands of saliva that remain post kiss. If that isn’t high fidelity I don’t know what is. The way that certain shots are blocked and positioned are both visceral and thematic. My jaw dropped more than one time at the sheer artistry of certain frames. Music is used sparsely so you’re completely immersed into the scene and what the character’s are doing. When it does come into play, and believe me it does, it only exists as a kind of bow on top of a perfect present. It somehow seals the whole movie together into a pristine package.

REPORT CARD

TLDRA Portrait of a Lady on Fire’s ingenious premise of a painter forced to paint a subject without letting them know is explored to its fullest in this queer, French, period piece that’s packed to the brim with some of 2019’s best cinematography. The way the movie tackles desire, the gaze, love, women’s social positions, art, and the relation of painters and their subjects somehow gives each topic justice while melding them together into a one of a kind experience that you shouldn’t miss. Please do yourself the service of watching this.
Rating10/10
Grade A+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report.

Review: Krisha

Director(s)Trey Edward Shults
Principal CastKrisha Fairchild as Krisha
Robyn Fairchild as Robyn
Bill Wise as Doyle
Trey Edward Shults as Trey
Release Date2015
Language(s)English
Running Time 81 minutes

Having already seen It Comes at Night, I expected Shults’s directorial debut, Krisha, to be ambiguous and unsettling. Though the story managed to get under my skin to an even greater degree than his sophomore feature, it’s much more straight-forward and clear. This is the story of Krisha, a women who returns to the family she abandoned in an attempt to patch things up during Thanksgiving. It doesn’t follow your typical story structure. There’s not one or two dramatic encounters into levity into redemption. This story is real, painful, and manages to explore the damage troubled family members can have on the whole unit in a truly visceral way that isn’t afraid to hold anything back.

The story starts off as Krisha parks her car and attempts to locate her estranged family’s household. We’re immediately given a view into her state of mind and it sets the tone for the disorienting events to come. She talks to herself, talks to inanimate objects, get irritated at inconveniences, and demonstrates a familiar but distant intimacy with her estranged family who all greet her with varied degrees of enthusiasm. From the loving embrace of her sister Robyn to the strange aloofness one of the youngsters, Trey, the movie makes it obvious that there’s a lot of history between Krisha and her kin and that she’s been gone for a long time. You know there’s something wrong there.

I love the way the movie is cut, scored, and presented. It’s a visually unique experience that makes the “estranged family member returns story” far more interesting. Events are inter cut and presented to keep a constant sense of action and uneasiness at play. Every time you feel safer in one scenario, the tension in another inter cut scene starts to ratchet up. There are lots of tracking shots and arc shots that are used to prolong this sense of uneasiness and create disorientation. In particular, one kitchen scene involving an arc shot got me feeling panicked and frantic as it constantly accelerated in speed. The music compliments what’s happening on the screen by accentuating the progression of Krisha’s journey. Early on we’re bombarded by discordant noises that make it impossible to focus yourself. It’s almost like Krisha can’t handle the intensity of coming back to her family and we’re right there with her. Later on music plays, the lyrics serving as a poetic backdrop to Krisha’s journey and transformation up till that point. Sound always has a purpose. All together the audio-visual elements breathe new life into the genre by taking commonplace Thanksgiving activities and functions far more tense than they need to be . It’s an an assault on the senses that never gives you a moment to settle in.

What sells the movie is just how real it all feels. Every performance is on point, but Krisha absolutely steals the show. From the way she looks to the way she carries herself, you can tell that she’s gone through a lot. Her panic translates in her frantic movements and uneasy quiet. The family interactions accurately convey the damage abusive family relationships can have. Members are constantly shown apart from Krisha, having moved forward in spite of her absence. Family interactions with Krisha are varied. Some are kind and open like Robyn, while others are more suspicious like Doyle, Krisha’s brother-in-law. It all comes together to paint a picture of the places families are willing to go to help those who fall of the beaten path. Simultaneously it doesn’t try and sugarcoat the trauma that comes from the abuse at play. The nuance hit me in how familiar it reminded me of my own experiences.

I only wish the movie was a bit longer, because I was interested in some of the hinted family drama that never gets revealed. I thought fleshing out certain character relations a bit more would make later conversations more relevant, but I never felt like I had a lack of information, so this might be more of a nitpick.

REPORT CARD

TLDRKrisha follows its titular namesake as she tries to re-integrate with her estranged family during Thanksgiving. However Shults has no intention of making this your typical rehabilitation story filled with positivity and Hallmark cliches. From the shot composition to the score, the movie injects every scene with palpable tension as we watch with baited breath, hoping Krisha can right the ship. This is a nerve-wracking and emotionally painful trip, but is definitely one worth taking.
Rating9.7/10
Grade A+

Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion.
Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .

Review: The Neon Demon

Director(s)Nicolas Winding Refn
Principal CastElle Fanning as Jesse
Jena Malone as Ruby
Bella Heathcote as Gigi
Abbey Lee as Sarrah
Karl Glusman as Dean
Keanu Reeves as Hank
Release Date 2016
Language(s)English
Running Time117 minutes

The Neon Demon follows Jesse, an aspiring young model looking to make it big in Los Angeles. Armed with only her beauty and charm, the budding star finds herself caught up in the machinations of an industry that simultaneously craves and detests the beauty she possesses. The movie deftly tackles exploitation, sexuality, beauty, and innocence in a way that brings lights the very real issues plaguing the fashion industry while offering a deep dive into the way humanity approaches beauty and aesthetic.

Jesse, on top of being the protagonist, is a stand in for beauty in a more metaphysical sense. Characters constantly talk about her attractive qualities, positioning themselves in relation to her on a spectrum ranging from deification to envy and hatred. It gives every interaction subtext about the way we perceive and interact with beauty, both in destructive and productive capacities. Some of us view beauty as invaluable as physical health, and as such, practices like plastic surgery are necessary to a “good” life. For others, beauty is vain and we should seek to move away from it. It’s all a question of what we think of ourselves. On top of that, we have to balance those ideas with how we think others view them as well. Each of these threads are explored in detail and in relation with one another culminating in a truly unique horror movie about the aspects of our relationship with beauty.

Speaking of beauty, the movie is mesmerizing to listen and watch. Shots are oozing with color and neon blues and reds are used to symbolize egoism and danger respectively. There are mirrors in almost every shot and they’re utilized in every way possible, from background props to make dialogue scenes more memorable to doorways for exploring the human condition. The way the movie is cut gives it a dream like feeling in key moments and adds a constant sense of tension in others. Refn knows how to play with expectations and uses editing misdirects to get memorable and well-earned scares. The movie is violent and gory, but only when it needs to be, so I didn’t think it came off as gratuitous. I got lost in every scene because of Cliff Martinez’s music. It’s synthy and hypnotic, completely lulling you into the energy of whatever is happening on screen. I felt scared, excited, wanted to dance, and completely got into the zone. There’s a lot of range in the music and it’s on of the best soundtracks I’ve heard in a movie. The sound editing is also on point and there’s not always music blaring, despite the obvious opportunities for it. When it suits the movie, silence and a distinct chime motif are used to thematically link pieces and add more tension. Put together, it’s an audio-visual experience that’s hard to beat. It knows when to assault the senses and when to hold back for the right moment.

Every performance is on point, but Fanning really shines as the lead of this giallo (big Suspiria vibes) inspired trip through the fashion industry. She starts off innocent and timid trying to find her footing. Never once does she feel manipulative or like an annoying goody two shoes. Instead, she feels almost like beauty personified, trying to make it in a cutthroat industry with only her looks at her side. Watching her transform into a more confident, narcissistic individual is harrowing but entertaining, because it feels natural from a storytelling/psychological perspective and supernatural from a thematic perspective.

My problems with the movie have to do more with the execution of the third act. There’s a lot of grounded realism in the first two acts with some more surreal elements, but by the time the third act rolls around it feels like a total switch. The story just starts going and gets really…. wow. It’s certainly effective and memorable, but I thought that it came off as too allegorical instead of balanced like story had been up to that point.

REPORT CARD

TLDRThe Neon Demon is a psychological horror movie about the awful things that await a young model with big aspirations in Los Angeles and as an allegory about humanity’s relationship with beauty wrapped up in a slick neon infused color palette and an synthy mesmerizing soundtrack. If you like more surreal horror that focuses on atmosphere as opposed to jump scares or are interesting an fascinating take on narcissism, this is the movie for you.
Rating9.8/10
Grade A+

Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .