Review: The Neon Demon - a podcast by SYN Media

Nicolas Winding Refn's The Neon Demon would have been, I imagine, quite an easy film to pitch, but a very hard one to describe. Since seeing it I've been explaining it to people as "the Black Swan of modelling,” which might sound very reductive, but given how much it invites comparison with Darren Aronofsky's film, I wouldn't be surprised if that's how Refn had originally conceived it.

Both of them begin by introducing a gifted but naive young woman wanting to enter into a soul-crushing profession, one that they short-sightedly think they can handle without losing themselves completely. This time around, we have 16-year-old Jesse (Elle Fanning, giving, to date, the best performance of her career) a natural beauty who wins over everyone with simply her radiating  personality. At first, she is aware of this great power she possesses, but only somewhat, only enough to know that, as a girl with no real professional skills and no family or friends to support her, her looks are something she can make money from.

Her lack of any personal connections is never explained, but there's no denying it's effectiveness as a writing tool. It makes Jesse a clean slate, a mysterious wanderer with a murky past. Every other character in the film is someone that both she and the audience are meeting for the first time, and so every relationship she forms with them is seen in full, from its very beginning. Two of the most memorable people she connects with are a budding photographer, Dean (Karl Glusman), and a more experienced model, Ruby (Jena Malone) who both take an interest in her, for whatever reason.

Out of all of Jesse’s modelling peers, Ruby is the only one to show her any kindness or to offer her any guidance. Funnily enough, she is also the only one who doesn’t have blonde hair, a choice that’s about as subtle as anything else in the film, which gets more expressionistic as it goes along. When a film opens with a vivid wide shot of a blood-splattered girl lying still in a bathtub, followed by a closeup of a young man coolly taking pictures of her, you certainly get an idea of what you’re in for. True to the name, just about every scene in The Neon Demon is bathed in a fluorescent glow, and just about every frame is filled with objects that catch and reflect that glow.

However, there is definitely more than just one demon to be found here. Most of them are female, with ghostly faces saturated in makeup, who go from discussing the “Red Rum” brand of lipstick in front of a mirror to eventually turning into literal blood-sucking, flesh-eating monsters. Of course, this is all meant to represent the dangers of the modelling industry, all the harmful things it teaches to young girls and the kinds of women they apparently have to become in order to win over the male modelling agents and fashion designers.

Naturally, a lot of this will be common knowledge amongst the audience. While Black Swan took place in the world of ballet, a profession that most people see as benign, respectable and not at all self-destructive, the modelling industry has been under public scrutiny for a while now, so it is doubtful that an emotional, rather than an intellectual film will bring anything new to the table.

Still, as annoying as it is to see yet another production about women fighting each other for a man’s attention, it is a pleasant surprise to see a film that commits to having a female protagonist, several female antagonists and a few male supporting characters that remain as much all the way to the end. That said, you can still tell this was written and directed by a man. While some of the scenes between the models are quite clearly heightened, others feel more like a version of group female interaction rendered more comprehensible for men. If it weren’t for his co-writers, Mary Laws and Polly Stenham, I imagine some of the dialogue would have probably turned out even more stilted.

Still, the five lead actresses always find ways to make their characters convincing, despite the absurd things they might end up saying or doing. Certainly Elle Fanning, and Melbourne actresses Bella Heathcote and Abbey Lee, all shine in the most intriguing roles they have ever been offered. It’s particularly interesting to hear the two Australians using their native accents in an American production, a subtle reminder that models, unlike actors, are seen but not heard in their profession. Unsurprisingly, Christina Hendricks portrays one of the better stone-cold industry gurus we’ve seen onscreen in a while, and Jena Malone, possibly taking inspiration from Mila Kunis, is genuinely cryptic as the suspicious Ruby.

Dean, on the other hand, very quickly proves himself to be a true friend of Jesse’s, and apparently the only decent person in sight. He suitably ends up going head to head with the two most despicable male characters: the fashion designer that all the girls want to be chosen by (a curiously uncredited Alessandro Nivola) who gets to say “beauty isn't everything; it’s the only thing”, and Jesse’s vulgar landlord (Keanu Reeves) who embodies every reason why a woman might be afraid to be out alone at night.

Jesse’s power is not just her beauty, but, most importantly, her honesty, her moral integrity, her pure intentions. Initially, she simply wants to make a living and has no wish to step on other people’s toes. Her power comes from the fact that she’s not even aware that this is a power at all. The films presents us with a fascinating paradox when as soon as this neon demon realises how powerful she is, she is rendered powerless, and defenceless against the real demons she thought she could take on.

Her pivotal transformation scene, about 90 minutes in, turns out to be the most stylised, well-paced and hypnotic part in the film. Rather than drag out the inevitable with a series of more realistic scenes, Refn wisely chooses to compact this character change into one fluid, dialogue-free sequence, which would have worked brilliantly as a final or penultimate moment. Unfortunately, though, we then end up spending half an hour with this brand new version of Jesse, which, as it turns out, we might have actually needed more than one scene to get to know.

There soon comes a point where the style turns into excess, the characters turn into caricatures, the commentary just becomes comedy and the macabre expressionism turns into a full-on gore-fest. Strangely enough, I eventually got a little tired of watching the main character die, in many different ways, and slowly stopped caring if this was another fantasy sequence or if this time she had actually died for real. It’s always hard to know, not because of the complexity of the writing but more because it’s unclear what Refn expects us to accept as realistic and what we can safely assume to be fantasy. There are only so many fake murders that one little Stanley Kubrick reference can justify. I’m sure that the multiple death scenes are meant to show how this profession is slowly killing her from the inside, destroying her piece by piece. It’s a valiant effort to shock us all into sharing his anger, but by the end of the film, just before Sia’s ‘Waving Goodbye’ plays over the end credits, it looks like he’ll be getting more laughs than anything else, which is not to say that The Neon Demon fails as an art film, but rather that it succeeds as a late blooming horror flick.

Written by Christian Tsoutsouvas

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