Rating: C+
Dir: Ti West
Star: Mia Goth, Elizabeth Debicki, Kevin Bacon, Giancarlo Esposito
I’d not be surprised if this ends up the most disappointing film of the year. Definitely not the worst, please note. But after the amazingly high bar set by Pearl, I was expecting incredible things here. Turns out to be closer to X: an apparent attempt to re-invent a horror subgenre, which only succeeds intermittently. In this case, it appears to be the giallo atmosphere West is going after, especially during a much criticized third act where everything goes more than a bit bonkers. As giallo movies tend to do: fans would likely call that a positive. I’m unconvinced it works here though, especially considering how grounded an approach it seems to be taking early on.
Things begin in 1985 with Maxine Minx (Goth), having survived – physically. if not perhaps mentally – the traumatic events of X, seeking to move on from her porn career and go into “legitimate” acting. She auditions for, and wins, a role in horror movie The Puritan II, directed by no-nonsense director Elizabeth Bender (Debicki), which could be her ticket to stardom. However, Maxine’s past is catching up with her, in the shape of sleazy private eye, John Labat (Bacon). Another threat looms, in the shape of the ‘Night Stalker’, a serial killer preying on young woman in Los Angeles, and events play out against the backdrop of the mid-eighties social and political controversy over violent and sexual content created by the entertainment industry.
I was initially wondering if Maxine might end up being the Night Stalker herself, traumatized by her experiences in Texas, and triggering her into disposing of anyone she considers poses a threat. There is one encounter early on, which demonstrates a firm zero-tolerance policy for such people, and should leave most male viewers crossing their legs. However, the film ends up going in an increasingly different direction, one which suggests the biggest threat in the eighties came from the “moral majority.” Hmmm. While I’m certainly prepared to acknowledge the frequent hypocrisy from that side, the weird cult-like scenario which unfolds is faintly ludicrous. In British terms, it feels like discovering David Alton and Mary Whitehouse were members of the same Satanic cult: somewhat amusing, yet clearly complete nonsense.
As with the previous two entries, West looks to cast a sceptical eye on the entertainment business, and the way it consumes its own. As Bender says, “If you take your eye off that prize for even a moment, the beast will spit you right back out where you came from.” Yet it seems curiously chaste; for a film set in the world of XXX- and B-movies, in the height of eighties hedonism (I’m surprised there wasn’t a credit for ‘fake coke provider’), there’s remarkably little nudity. Occasionally impressive gore, and another strong performance from Goth, do help sustain interest, when the plot increasingly fails to do so. Even the certified eighties soundtrack feels more an obligation, rather than stemming from a genuine passion for the era. Considering West was aged… four when events here unfold, probably not a surprise.