Blonde

Blonde

Blonde is a fake-deep deepfake, a “conjuration of Marilyn” with no spirit or soul, like the worst David Lynch homage (poorly) channeled through the relentless mediocrity of Ryan Murphy. Dominik’s only succeeded in making artless junk that mistakes wallowing in a woman’s abjection for something to say. It’s an act of necrophilia and a shamelessly brazen punishment fantasy uselessly disguising itself as highbrow psychodrama; a hideously ugly and demonic perfume ad that uses mental illness, substance abuse, and female madness for little more than fetishized spectacle.

Tiny flames of potential, levity, light, and love are smothered completely and immediately, snuffed out and squashed by a film that purports to condemn sexist exploitation only to then worship at its alter in reverent prayer for nearly three fucking hours. de Armas disappears into the role, but at what cost? This is just violently misogynistic sacrilege with a great score.

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