Monday, September 12, 2016

clothes whores.

Yup I know you've all seen it by now but what the hell, I couldn't let this go by without at least attempting to add some patented mooth-shite-in/laugh now nonsense to the mix, in part to counteract all those wank-fest musings and mild anger posts that accompanied its cinema release.

More importantly tho' someone might read it and send me a Blu Ray copy as a thank you.

Or at the very least a pair of Jena Malone's undies.

Or even a pair of Karl Glusman's I'm not proud.

Tho' seeing as my rather marvelous write-up of Burial Ground got me fuck all (except the threat of violence) I can't really see that happening can you?

The Neon Demon (2016).

Dir: Nicolas Winding Refn.
Cast: Elle Fanning, Karl Glusman, Jena Malone, Alessandro Nivola, Bella Heathcote, Abbey Lee, a mountain lion, Christina Hendricks and Keanu Reeves.

Who wants sour milk when you can get fresh meat?

Meet the frighteningly ball-headed and big eyed beauty Jesse (Fanning), a waif like (and wafer thin) 16 year old wannabe model whom we first encounter helping out amateur photographer cum nice guy Dean Gaffney (cock wobbling star of Gaspar Noe's "Love, Glusman) as a model for the 'I've seen Suspiria' fashion shoot he's preparing as part of his 'I'm interesting and like the foreign films' portfolio.

Draped on a chaise lounge and with red emulsion dripping from her neck our vacant eyed heroine oozes an other worldly innocence coupled with a look of utter boredom as she gazes into the middle distance.

And by default into our very souls.


With it's Argento cum Kubrick cum all things shiny (and all over the sofa if this movie gets any more gorgeous to look at) agenda firmly in place for all to see Jesse busies herself carefully wiping the muck off her smooth, milky white skin as the red-headed, trash epic temptress that is Jena Malone gazes lustfully at her from behind a mirror whilst smoking a cigarette in the way that only bad girls - and your mum - can.


Taking pity on our friendless waif Malone (playing a character called Ruby) invites Jesse to a Hunger themed tribute party where she introduces her to a couple of vacuous fellow models Sarah Leegateau (Australian fashion model, actress and musician Lee from Fury Road) and Gigi Wattoscillator (ex- Neighbours star Heathcote). 
Much bitchiness and bad words follow as the women attempt to get the measure of  Jesse - which is about 1.75 m if I'm not mistaken - whilst channeling Andrea Bianchi's dialogue coach.
Yes the scene IS that good.
Quickly exhausting every topic that women ever chat about (sexual preference, make-up tips and swooning over pictures of Hollyoaks hunk Nick Pickard) the foursome make their way into the main hall to watch a wee bit of strobe-lit Shibari bondage set to a pulse pounding sub-Simonetti score.

Which is nice.

It's not all colours and sound tho' as there is, in fact a kinda plot to be getting on with too so the next day Jesse vists an important modeling agency run by the frankly magnificent Christina Hendricks, who after seeing her test shots signs Jesse on the spot before giving her the top fashionata advice to pretend she's 19 and not eat too many pies.

Seems legit.

As it happens nasty necklaced photographer Jack Flatley (Harrington, father of Kit and star of The Hole, Ghost Ship, and Wrong Turn but hell who am I to judge?) has an open slot (which he could probably get sorted with antibiotics) in his schedule just the right size for Jesse to squeeze into so off she goes to pose for his Polaroids and see what develops.

By that I meant as far as her career goes, it wasn't a euphemism for him getting an erection or anything which he may of seeing as the shoot consists of Jesse stripping naked whilst he covers her in gold paint as he gazes manfully into space.

Leaving the shoot Jesse comes across (not in that way but only cos I doubt Elle Fanning is a squirter if I'm honest) Ruby skulking about outside practicing her smoking skills and the pair swap numbers before Ruby heads off for a lunch date with Gigi and Sarah which quickly descends into a wee bit of a bitchfest regarding 'the fresh meat' that is our bubbly blonde babe.

This may be important later.

And she's watching him with those eyes
And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it!
And he's holding her in his arms late, late at night whilst wondering why everyone is wandering around the set of
Sei donne per l'assassino.

Not wanting to get too carried away with all this gold fleck fashion stuff  Jesse spends the evening on a date with Dean that consists of her walking along a wall whilst waxing lyrically about the moon being a massive eye.

Which is nice.

With the surrealism exhausted Jesse returns to her run down motel room only to find it's been ransacked by a mountain lion leaving her no alternative but to call on sleazy motel manager, Theodore "Hank" Logan (Reeves) for help.

Being a sleazy, beardy bastard he blames Jesse for the situation and demands that she pay for the damages.

By pay for the damages I have a feeling he's hinting at her having sex with him.


But who cares about such minor issues when there's more (much more) fashion-type stuff to fit in so with that in mind Jesse heads off to a casting call for the world famous fashion designer Robert Sandwich (Nivola from Face/Off, Ryan Gosling was obviously busy sorting his Lego that day) where she ends up head to head with Sarah.

Who will get the coveted catwalk call?

Go on, guess.

Finger in mah mooth ya skinny bastard!

With Jesse crowned catwalk queen, Sarah distraught at being ignored (must have been the off-white boil washed granny pants) runs away and hides in the toilet, tearing up her portfolio and smashing the mirror with her massive chin.

Needing a poo after a hard day being measured Jesse finds Sarah sobbing in a cubicle and attempts to cheer her up with a variety of animal impressions.

This random act of kindness causes Sarah to lunge at Jesse in order to give her a big hug but Jesse (being very ickle) gets a fright and cuts her tiny doll-like hand on a shard of glass.

Sarah, as anyone would in this situation impulsively starts sucking the blood from the wound and with this Jesse makes her excuses and leaves.

Managing to dodge Hank's angry advances she makes it to her room before collapsing on the bed in a sea of neon triangles, high maintenance haircuts and improbably angled evening wear only to be raised from her hallucinogenic haze by Dean arriving at her door with a bunch of garage forecourt flowers.


Being a sucker for a sob story (or just a fan of milky white thighs you could ski down) Dean offers to pay Hank for the damages before tending to Jesse's wound, leaving her free to prepare for her catwalk debut.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

Would you believe it.... gurning Gigi just happens to be performing (um, walking?) at Lord Sandwich's fashion show too which gives Gigi ample time to tell Jesse about all the cosmetic surgery she's had in order to look more 'beautiful'  and in turn express shock and disbelief at the fact that Jesse is not only all natural but that she hasn't offered to have 'the sex' with anyone to get the job.

Just like me.

This intellectual discourse on the meaning of beauty is cut short when Sandwich enters from stage left (as opposed to a wee boy) to announce that he wants Jesse to close the show, presenting her with a dress so sparkly that Dame Edna would think twice about wearing it.

Cue legions of zombie-like catwalkers and strobe lights ahoy as Jesse drifts into a fashion induced, triangle obsessed dreamscape of reflection snogging narcissism.

Ding dong.

Heading along to a local bar with Dean to celebrate, the couple happen across Sandwich and Gigi who is still talking about surgery.

Being a bombastic (yet strangely camp  at the same time) type the moustachioed master of making things makes an impassioned plea to women everywhere to desist in their vain search for artificial beauty whilst praising Jesse's natural look and talent declaring that "beauty isn't everything; it's the only thing." 

Dean, being nice but dim challenges this view only to be put in his place when Sandwich quite rightly tells him he wouldn't have any interest in Jesse if she wasn't so beautiful.

Confused by all the big words being banded about Dean leaves in a huff.

"Oh Vic I've fallen!"

Returning to her rundown motel room Jesse's dreams of pretty frocks and unlimited blusher are interrupted by visions of horrible Hank violating her pretty mouth with a flick knife but she's rudely awakened before things get really interesting by the sound of someone trying to force her window open.

As scared as she is she should be grateful that it wasn't someone trying to smash her back door in really.

Making sure everything is locked Jesse can only listen as a mysterious intruder breaks into the room next door and forces the occupant to do much heaving lifting.

Well that's what it sounds like.

Terrified at the thought of being next on the list - and having fairly weak arms -  Jesse rings Ruby who invites her to the mansion that she's house-sitting.

America's Next Top Model was never like this.

Frankly Tyra would never allow it plus I  can't imagine Nigel Barker forcibly sticking his unsheathed blade into a contestants mouth.

Whether they deserved it or not.

Tho' I have thought about it.

Nigel: He's got something to put in you.

Ruby is the perfect host making cups of tea and supplying biscuits for poor Jesse, even offering to comb her hair for her like "her dear old mum used to" only to spoil the whole evening by trying to fiddle with Jesse's wumpf whilst forcing her tongue into her gob.

What's the obsession with Elle Fanning's mouth anyway?

I mean it's not bad but I wouldn't climb over Allison Harvard to shite in it.

 Jesse being a good girl rejects Ruby's advances with a mumbled cry of  "I'm a virgin!"  causing poor dejected Ruby to strop off in a huff and draw scary faces on a mirror in lipstick before leaving for her second job as mortician where she molests a female corpse to take her mind of things.

Don't judge we've all done it.

Returning home after a long evenings corpse cuddling Ruby is surprised to find Jesse, standing on the swimming pool diving board ranting about being the most beautiful - and dangerous - girl in the world.

Which is nice work if you can get it.

Drunk on narcissism (is that possible?) and high on fashion Jesse stands proudly, nay arrogantly above her host like some self important designer clad messiah.

Think Naomi Campbell but with better teeth.

And a less limited vocabulary.

Oh yes and without the blood diamond obsession.

But Ruby has plans for Jesse.

Plans that involved the by now fairly teed off Gigi and Sarah.

And a collection of shiny steel steak knifes......

From the undisputed master of Spectrum cinema comes probably THE greatest ASD fueled fantasy ever made that doesn't feature Replicants, Red Dragons or Ryan Gosling.

Luckily it does feature an abundance of pretty frocks and copious amounts of the colour blue in all it's cool wonder.

There's also a fair bit of (deep) red too.

And the greatest film soundtrack this side of Suspiria.

As wonderfully comfy as it is jarring, Nicolas Winding Refn's ode to clothes is one of the most immersive and satisfying films to come out of a lifelong developmental disability since Drive.

Hang there a pattern there?

Tyra: Tearful Banks and a low fat Pot Noodle.

Perkily cast and pitched to perfection, The Neon Demon is a cinematic vision of what the whole damn world would be like if Leo Kanner's kids ruled it.

Think The X-Men but with tidier hair (and rooms) and you're halfway there.

Buy it now or be terminally neurotypical for ever.

Nuff said.

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