Monday, September 12, 2016

The Neon Demon (2016)


Cast: Elle Fanning, Jena Malone, Bella Heathcote, Abbey Lee, Karl Glusman, Christina Hendricks, Desmond Harrington, Keanu Reeves.
Director: Nicholas Winding Refn.

Well, I'm back.  No record was set (obviously) but this blog can be salvaged by getting back on the horse and just doing what I do best: talking about movies, without any time constraints, greater ambitions or what have you.  So, that's what I intend to do, starting with Nicholas Winding Refn's newest effort, The Neon Demon.  I liked Drive well enough, even if I wasn't as blown away by it as a lot of others seemed to be, but Refn's minimalist grunge-glamour hybrid style is definitely fascinating to watch.  Plus, y'know, synth scores kinda rule.  I missed his other flick, Only God Forgives but heard and read good things...as for this film, I know little about it beyond the cast list, so, with that, might as well get on with it.  Gonna avoid spoilers as best as possible.

Refn certainly has a way with interesting color usage and composition...opening with huge splashes of reds and blues, then one of the most gorgeous dead body shots I've seen outside of an Argento film: placing a woman with a bright blue dress, a pool of blood, a puke green couch and a silver background all together into a stage-like set...beautiful.  Blue/Red contrast is clearly going to be a big deal here.

I'm not sure anyone could do that grunge/glamour mash-up like Refn does.  Even in the earliest scenes, he manages to make things look filthy and sticky, but brightly lit and colorful.  Portraying two Women have a vaguely flirtatious (and mildly predatory) conversation as an actress scrubs fake blood off of her, the dressing room filled with pinpoints of light...the only weakness to this style is that the imagery overpowers the sequence: I barely even registered that Jena Malone was on screen, because I was so distracted by the shiny.

The metaphors here aren't exactly subtle...in fact, the dialogue feels a little rough.  Again, though, the scene playing out under neon lighting (again, I feel like this is very Argento...whether or not that's a bad thing remains to be seen) with reds and blues mixing together into this washout effect...it's stunning. 

Very nice contrast moves made visually...this is obviously going to be a visual film.  Cutting from more flashing colors against black to the rather drab apartment of the lead is a nice smash cut.  Elle Fanning is doing some good performance work here, especially with the visuals making her seem so out of place against backdrops of cities (smothered by smog) and the dominating presence of the great Christina Hendricks...again, it's not subtle.  Every conversation the lead has creates a sense of predator and prey: Fanning is prey, while these other women regard her as something of a meal.  It's an interesting dynamic, ostensibly cutting the "male gaze" out of the situation (at least overall, besides sequences of Fanning with photographers...).  

I want something else to comment on other than visual flourishes, but it really is that kind of movie.  Another brief pseudo-seductive moment between Fanning and Malone that works quite well, but it really is brief...then there is a gorgeous and surrealistic sequences on a photoshoot set where we get to some male gaze stuff...it's a strange and difficult scene, but its worked rather expertly.  It's surreal, and creepy, and it feels dangerous but somehow transcendent, almost clinically un-erotic...feel like this movie is going to test my vocabulary in more than a few ways.  Desmond Harringtons complete lack of emotion seems to present an almost sociopathic approach to the world of modeling: that there is no feeling beneath it, just that clinical precision...its strange and beautiful, and almost anti-beauty at the same time.  A cold, unfeeling approach to beauty.  

I'm still trying to get a handle on what this movie is actually about, other than the (again) rather straightforward metaphors about predatory instincts and the superficial and soulless approach to mass-produced beauty industry...there's a little commentary on the average being unique in a conformist world(quite a bit of it actually: Elle is presented as stunningly ordinary but everyone reacts to her as if she is the most beautiful thing ever), but there's still not much of a plot in sight.  This movie brings to mind Argento, Black Swan and a little Mulholland Drive but, as I said earlier, I'm not sure yet if that's a blessing or a curse at this point.  Those comparisons are extraordinary, but it remains to be seen if that comparison will ruin it as a whole.  Will it just be a comparison film, or be a unique work of art....

Keanu Reeves is doing an excellent aggressive performance...he's playing it completely disgusting but it has a comedic effect while being undeniably menacing.  It's a fascinating little role for him to be playing.  Not sure this movie needed male roles at all, but their minimalist caricature presentations (scum bag, nice guy, unfeeling artist) is at least marginally effective.   I wish the story gave a little bit more to it, though...most of the interactions she has with other models are so obvious in their opinions that it feels almost comical.  But then, as soon as it jumps back into a long, visually gorgeous scene with a low key synth score all of that wishy washy dialogue stuff mostly melts away.

I'm wondering if the shallow dialogue and obvious metaphorical pretension is deliberate, as a meta example of the shallow lack of personality in the world of modeling?  Like, all this beautiful imagery ultimately means nothing because it lacks substance and reality?  It's difficult to say.  I really can't tell if it's that or just poorly written.  Representation of shallow subject matter, or shallow representation of subject matter?

I've thoroughly enjoyed all scenes between Fanning and Malone: they are so unusual, so predatory and...just very strange.  Ethereal would be a good word for them. The film is at its best when its attempting wordless transcendence, visual representations of identity, and being nigh incomprehensible.  When it attempts any sort of landing, or attempts to be grounded, it sputters and flops.  I'm not sure I've seen a film that can only handle the big stuff but not be able to handle fundamentals. It's a fascinating exercise, at any rate.

Hmm...not sure if the movie jumped the shark or reached its most brilliant height...at any rate, it went weirder than ever, in an entirely different direction.  Malone is kinda nailing it, though.  I won't give anything away, but...shit just got real.  It's odd that more menace wasn't quite utilized in the build up to the climax, it just sneaks up on the viewer suddenly without warning.  Again, I'm not sure its ineffective...or if it's a strong choice...I'll need to take a few minutes to do the math on it when it's over with.  In the meantime, I'm gonna watch this very...unusual creative move happen.

Final Thoughts: I feel like I can say without hesitation that The Neon Demon is one of the weirdest films I've seen in awhile, and I'm going to go out on a limb and say that that is a good thing.  Visually the film is almost beyond reproach: contrast, composition, color, lighting, and staging make it on par with anything I've seen.  Earlier, I compared it to Argento, Lynch and Aronofsky, and wondered if that was a blessing or a curse and now that the credits have rolled, the movie has ended and I've stepped away for a much needed cigarette and a good think, I have decided that it is a positive one.  The movie belongs in the sort of artistic category of films like Suspiria, Black Swan and Mulholland Drive, even if it doesn't quite reach the heights those films did (two of them being among the top five horror films of the 21st century) but it's close.  While the dialogue occasionally is choppy, the metaphor unsubtle and overall production uneven, it's difficult to condemn it for that...as I mentioned earlier, I'm not so sure the shallowness of everything isn't a specific choice made to underscore the greater themes of coveted beauty, lack of depth and the sucking of soul from beauty.  

At it's best, it's a weird, slightly uneven art piece, at its worst a beautiful disaster, and either of them aren't necessarily a detractor.  Whether or not the films weaknesses are expertly disguised strengths or not, the film is undeniably a hypnotic, engaging viewing experience that confounds most conventional logic and taste.  

Final Rating: Y'know what?  Gonna go with Four Stars.  While I find myself unable to commit to loving or hating it, I cannot deny its effect.  Solid work.

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