MIFF NOTES: The Neon Demon (2016, Dir. Nicolas Winding Refn)

It feels satisfyingly appropriate to be reductive when talking about Nicolas Winding Refn's The Neon Demon. It is almost too fitting. As if the slighter the insight, the more in-service you are to Refn's overall aesthetic.

Fortuitously, the opportunities to be reductive are expansive. One delightfully fitting example came on the last night of the fest, at the post-festival drinks. I was positioned between a lover and a hater. A (reductive) subject came up: Refn's decision to use his YSL-styled initials to brand his involvement. Lover loved it. Hater hated it.

As Lover perceptively observed, the reaction to NWR's totally conscious, totally design-ridden, totally conceited self-aggrandisement, is the perfect litmus test on whether you're going to get on board.

For the record, that was the very point I decided I totally was. Without question.

So, seconds into the film, you're going to know if you are in or out. How's that for reductiveness? How's that for impressive?

From that point, The Neon Demon sets about confirming your flash decision. With its synthing electro-score from Cliff Martinez. With its saturated visuals. With its facile ingenue-enters-fashion-world narrative. With its flawless photography of Elle Fanning. With its cringe-worthy but somehow totally believable dialogue. With its cannibalistic sensuality. With its utterly preposterous Guignol.

With its perfectly cast Keanu.

It's all veneer though. And its a veneer that doesn't warrant cracking. NWR's target is obvious, his attacks stylish and the returns immaterial. It's a hellishly absorbing feast for/on the eyes. And who cares if it evaporates the moments the Sia accompanied credits roll, you know you can relive the experience by watching it again and again.

And you will.

★★★★

Trailer:

Elle screened as part of the Melbourne International Film Festival 2016.

You can check out other films from the festival here.