A Psychedelic Visualisation That Is Fuelled To Torment
As much as it may seem rude to even suggest at booing or heckling a film you have just watched at your local cinema, it’s somewhat common at the Cannes Film Festival, especially in recent years, for critics and ordinary viewing audiences to extravagantly jeer at a film-makers piece of work. Indeed, whether it’s from the arresting disapproval’s that Quentin Tarantino received when his film of Pulp Fiction unsuspectingly won the festivals highest prize of the Palme d’Or, to the blatant criticism that Olivier Assayas encountered at last year’s event for his feature of Personal Shopper, it’s not surprising to comprehend how theorists and audience members alike perceptibly speak against the film-makers, and their pieces of filmic work, at Cannes for breaking the ‘normalities’ of the cinematic status quo. As much as these naysayers say otherwise however, it’s imperative to note that many of the films that they’ve frantically turned down over the years, have gone on to reach acclaim to the highest pedigree. This is certainly accurate with the films that director Nicolas Winding Refn has released in recent years, especially his feature of The Neon Demon, as his features radically receive unfair appraisals and standing ovations for his unique, experimental and differentiating cinematic stylisation.
Aspiring to be a model in Los Angeles, 16 year-old Jesse arrives in the ‘City of Angels’ to make a name for herself through her modelling aspirations. In befriending a make-up artist, named Ruby, and an aspirant photographer named Dean, who happens to build her modelling portfolio, Jesse’s natural beauty and exuberant youth generate intense fascination to the point where she is called up for a high-end shoot. However, with fame, comes jealously; especially when Ruby’s other modelling friends of Gigi and Sarah begin to envy Jesse’s instantaneous success. With this modelling triumph coming about so quickly, will Jesse succumb to the lure of the industries complexities? Or will she face demons that are far beyond her control or comprehension?…
Aside the forthright accessibility that is noticeable to grasp within his previous filmic works of the lauded Drive and Bronson, Refn has showed that in recent years, particularly within the much stylised feature of Only God Forgives, he’s subtly expanding on his distinct auteuristic approaches in an experimental manner that subsequently broadens the contextual motifs presented in a eccentric yet elusive fashion. As much as the film retains many evident formal tactics, of the superficial lighting and expressive cinematography from Refn’s previous cinematic entry, of which we’ll delve into more detail shortly, The Neon Demon extensively follows a categorical narrative that starts off rather simply – following the progression of Jesse’s spontaneous rise as a headlining glamour model – and exceedingly fluctuates to an end point that ambiguously pushes our expectations in a near-enough jaw-dropping manner that will make people either howl or cheer. Since the film upholds a third-act that utilises surrealistic mannerisms in similar vain to Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dali’s dadaist short-film of Un Chien Andalou, Refn doesn’t hold back in displaying a story that candidly questions our thinking through metaphorical and lengthy sequences, devoid of any dialogue, which culminate towards not only Jesse’s luring change, but also our way of thinking and what we’re seeing is either reality or something else. In many respects, the film very much assimilates itself with the nightmarish and psychological-thrill ride of Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan; with both features centralising on similar story-formats and inhabiting main characters who try and achieve their artistic goals by occupying a darker-side of themselves that consequently disregard their sane personality and yearn for succession. The differentiating construct of the two films however, is how much Refn’s Neon Demon metaphorically outlines the slandered nature of the modelling industry by provocatively exploiting Jesse’s singular path and the envious secondary characters that are purely resentful. In contrast, Black Swan progresses to the point in which we feel sympathy for Natalie Portman’s inner-victimisation as she can’t control the other part her being that she so desperately wants to rid-away. The whole purpose of The Neon Demon, especially when audiences will begrudgingly gaze at the third and final act, is that it’s meant to be extreme and questioned. As it seductively pulls our own gaze to a structure that starts off as a familiar story of the corrupted-innocence and the consumption and commodification of youth which transpires into a purposefully shocking exploitation flick, Refn metaphorically outlays this perception that people can become beauty obsessed and how they will obscenely rely upon their own vanity to block out essences of reality. With it assimilating and referencing familiar filmic tropes from films done by Dario Argento, in particular the film of Suspiria, there’s no denying that The Neon Demon ultimately kindles this sense of whimsical fantasia that will inert a substance and other sub-texts that audiences will either stick with it, or cover their eyes in a distasteful or horrific way. As much as Refn contextually carries out a narrative that provokes an inevitable response, it’s through the illusory means of the cinematography and lighting that establishes the idiosyncratic nature of Jesse’s endeavour into the devouring and consuming world of fashion.
As many will have been accustomed in viewing his films beforehand, it’s likely that you’ll know that Refn is a film-maker that takes pride style over substance. In any case, he’s a visual-storyteller that implements the amalgamation of superficial lighting and an ever-flowing yet curious camera to construct a somewhat hypnotically composed feature that will encroach the beguiling gaze of the audiences towards the colourful rhapsody presented. In persistently implementing the abstruse yet nightmarish-neon visual aesthetics that were firstly derived from his preceding film of Only God Forgives, Refn appropriates the mesmerising lighting to once again illuminate the shifting moods that cast over Jesse and the rising experiences she faces. In moulding the fluctuating the synthetic colours of an icy blue and a blaring red, the lighting indeed dictates Jesse’s ever-changing personality; whereas the blue signifies the arousing narcissism that Jesse steadily thrives in, the red, more blatantly, resembles the occurring danger that the central character is faced with (even though she’s not aware of it herself). As expected with the spectral lighting in place, Refn also makes good use of the continuously-flowing camera; which purposefully shoots within other frames residing in the synthetic backdrop and scans, and in many ways scrutinises, the fantastical yet deranged milieu that is depicted through the slowly panning and observant lens. As similarly executed within Refn’s much lauded film of Drive, in relation to that films ‘elevator’ scene, The Neon Demon correspondingly uses a sequence that epitomises the films overall meaning. The scene in question which subtly goes about in summarising what this film is all about, is the fantastical spectacle in which Jesse is about to appear in finishing a fashion show, and is immediately entranced by the glowing prism, in which she saw beforehand in another hallucination, and kisses her reflection within it. Everything, from the arrangement of the camera slowly manoeuvring the sombre-surreal space to the vacillation of the lighting that interprets Jesse’s fickle mental state, the scene not only embodies the films way of being a normal art-house flick to a feature that the majority of audiences won’t believe as to what they’re seeing, but it further exemplifies the visual flare that Refn advocates.
As Refn constructs a deranged fantasia that centralises on a theme that abstractly commentates on our cultural obsession with fashion and vanity, the characterisation, along with the already discussed formal filmic tactics, was imperative for The Neon Demon since the motifs presented wouldn’t have been justifiably backed-up. The performances, in any type of film, are fundamental in providing the viewing members this sense of authenticity which allows us to mentally project our feelings towards the story and the scenarios a particular character faces. While it’s not an aspect that audiences will focus on, the characters equally permit The Neon Demon is displaying the controversial themes. Elle Fanning as Jesse is good, especially at the beginning of the film where she is required to look shy and innocent to the new environments that her characters is instantaneously introduced to. In fact, with it featuring a star-studded cast, which include a varying degree of women who are beautiful yet incredibly shallow and further authenticate Refn’s contextual purpose, it’s hard to find any performance which doesn’t bring you out of the luminous fairy-tale being told. However, if there’s acting depiction that daringly switches the films drastic disposition, it’s the appearance of Jena Malone, who enacts the hard-to-read Ruby, that steals the screen since it’s a character that acutely undergoes the most startling transformation. While it may seem to be an innocent portrayal at first, similarly seen with Elle Fanning and the character she’s inhabiting, Malone’s performance is truly daring and committed and easily the most memorable in a film that is filled with ambiguous characters; in a sense mirroring the unusually weird individuals seen in C.S. Lewis’ Alice in Wonderland.
While many naysayers will accentuate towards the perverted nature that this feature boldly and shockingly demonstrates, Refn’s daunt yet fantastical cinematic piece of The Neon Demon artistically outlays a ‘fairy-tale’ that provokes a response to the viewer and purposefully flourishes out a simplified narrative through visual means that aspiring auteur can fully comprehend. Yes, it’s most definitely not a film for everyone. It’s understandable that avid film-lovers will go with, or simply disregard it completely. However, With it having an assured eye in stylistically and surrealistically addressing this cultural obsession with beauty, Refn’s seductive yet stylishly horrific film further exemplifies the notion that not every film are intended to be ‘read’ as books – they’re also meant to be experienced…
On that note, it’s time for me to end this review. As always everyone, thank you for reading my latest review of Nicolas Winding Refn’s The Neon Demon and I hope you’ve all enjoyed the read!!😉. If anyone has an opinion on either my review or on the film itself, feel free to drop a comment down below. Next week, I will be starting off my new film review series in which I go back and review the films that I grew up with in the 90’s. The film in question…Is a mystery that you’ll have to see for yourself soon. All I will say, is that it’s the very first film that I’ve ever watched. Once again, thank you to everyone for reading this week’s Blog Post, and I’ll see you all soon!! Have a nice day!! Adieu!! 😁😎✌
★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ – Alex Rabbitte