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The Neon Demon (2016)
glossy like a magazine: vogue goes rogue (optical spectacle, musical triumph)
as the adage goes, "i can't define it, but I know it when I see it," NWF (director Nicolas W. Refn) has created a visual masterpiece for the modern film aesthete. vibrant color and dynamic light pull you in by your optical nerves meanwhile dramatic pause and caesura keep you biting your nails (i read somewhere the start-stop-go scene arrangement was inspired by high-fashion runway catwalks). the glittering images are highlighted by fluorescent and neon lights, and every scene has at least one magnificent still. not to be called a one-trick-pony, NWR's cinematographic prowess comes full circle here. i can't define his aesthetic per- say, but his visual devices are uniquely stylized and engage viewers to come- hither and witness something both beautiful and repulsive. the decadent elements, the juxtaposition of the grossly violent with the delicately pretty, the adornment and romanticized pictures of death haunt and bewitch us. the truest art disturbs the comfortable.
total ensorcellment is guaranteed by musical wizard Cliff Martinez (soundtrack and original score for the film; he is also the one responsible for The Knick's (dir. steven soderberg) electro-synth perfection). with Cliff, you barely need dialogue.
which is just as well since that is the main area in which the film disappoints. what some call 'bad acting' is actually lack of skillful writing; steeped in modern existentialism, NWR intended to make a social commentary of capitalist consumer culture and whether or not he intended on making something beautiful but vacant is irrelevant. like couture culture, lack of substance is part and parcel to the fashion industry. models are meant to look perfect, not be perfect. you can have brains or beauty: not both ad supremum.
either way, the Hollywood cult of beauty is on display (literally and figuratively) in all its tragic glory. are RWN's shortcomings the same as those at play IRL? this hypnotic mise-en-scene ironically submits to and subscribes to the same controversial polemics. cut to scene: fashion show fitting "take her to measurements".
even if you find this entire movie a waste of time, money and or life, there are 3 things that you must admit to appreciating. 1. the panther in the hotel room. 2. keanu, for the first time in a long time. 3. "are we having a party or something?"
Demolition (2015)
every act of creation is first an act of destruction.
i started to watch the film first to make sure the transferred copy worked and was good quality...and from the first inner-monologue i was sucked in and felt like i could feel gylenhall's words. the writing was superb; the narration through letters intimated the complicated-but-not-really emotions in perfectly nuanced honesty, reflection and randomness. i know JG is extremely talented; he inhabits his characters completely, and i agree with the other user that his profound portrayal of grief, met with small wells of fear and pools of memory cut sharply into the reserved, shallow, slightly sociopathic surface of a man woken from a numbing sleep. his demolition is internal - another metaphor, as he so accurately states - a catharsis that unlocks a beautiful, disturbed, painfully real (and excellently shot) road to recovery and down memory lane. the young actor was a really good match, giving the story both a little humanity and arrogance of youth - which topped off the film at the perfect moments.
The Signal (2014)
juxtaposition and cinematography
before i delve into the plot, let me first say that this film was by far the most surprising I've seen in a long time mainly because it is a gem in terms of cinematography, with scenery and costume both looking surprisingly polished--because they are spliced between other video direction that could be mistaken for the Blair Witch Project. the juxtaposition between old- school hacker, indie-film-angst-ridden teenagers from somewhere-near-California in anachronistic new-balance sneakers and grungy sweatshirts takes a turn for the latter half of the movie when the camera-phone is taken away from the main actor(s) and positioned on a tripod inside a hospital-like institution. the differentiation between first-hand visual accounts and third-person (audience) of the scene breaks down into dynamic panoramas of Nevada skyline into tight frames so close you can see every eyelash.
what this film does in fact is honor the mantra that which is not seen is scarier in movies. the plot is simple, ambivalent and surreal; the most gripping moments are centered on intensely 'agitated' levels of tension arising from emotionally disturbing circumstances.
there is a notable degree of provocation insisted upon by Lawrence Fishburne (who is just stoic enough not to make your head explode but aptly frustrating as he answers questions with questions and affords reluctant acquiescence) but even when called out, manages to avoid subscribing to any specific details about the nature of the issue.
i love a good 'outbreak' style contagion-control suit. and the young actors deliver inspiring performances as video gamers-cum-MIT computer programmers jotting down server codes and IP addresses in search of the elusive nomad... ...but... the 'sci-fi' movie genre, for me, just isn't totally believable. no matter what aliens look like, or what their robotic-futuristic advanced technologies are supposed to be capable of, we are not. so i ultimately prefer the mystery to the ALMOST reality of a digital version. and in this case, we are left with a slightly confused sense of hidden agenda.
lesson learned: if you set out in search of it, you better be ready for it when you get there.