Just a gay twenty-four-year-old with an affinity for horror and genre film. I can’t believe that Aki follows me either.
"Are you food, or are you sex?"
This pertinent question is posed about ten minutes into The Neon Demon, and it lingers over the film like a dreadful miasma. In NWR's glimmering and alternatively repulsive LA, everyone wants to fuck you, be you, or eat you.
The line between obsession, desire, love, and hatred becomes so blurred that it practically doesn't exist. Terror and exploitation are just around the corner, lurking in every shadow, poisoning every space until you've nowhere…
The Neon Demon is a dark ritual, a beautiful bloodletting, and a powerful, hypnotic spell that's even more stylish than The Hunger.
P.S. The runway transformation sequence is one of the most cinematic and dreamlike scenes I've ever seen this side of Lynch or De Palma, as pretentious as that sounds.
P.P.S. The strobe segment in this is even better than the one in Black Swan.
It allegedly took four robberies for Paris Hilton to finally realize she was being stolen from. By the fifth time it happened, she’d already filed a report about it. Can you think of any more terrifyingly obvious example of how much the obscenely wealthy hoard anything they don’t need or don’t even notice?
Your Name is a spellbinding masterpiece that doesn’t waste a single second of its nearly two-hour runtime. This beautiful, glimmering, gorgeous gem is endearing, striking, empathetic, and wonderfully unpredictable. The characters are warm, kind, and immensely likable, helping to accentuate just how romantic, refreshing, and nice the entire film really is.
The direction is fluid and outstanding, as is the writing, particularly as it handles typically clunky tasks like exposition and foreshadowing. I actually wish this were four hours long,…