Sly, stylish “Strange Darling” takes us on a weird and wild ride

2023 Film Festivals/2024 Theatrical Release/1h 37m

In a summer that’s short on must-see movies, “Strange Darling” ranks as essential viewing for fans of neo-noir thriller/horror flicks. A riveting story of a serial killer on the loose in rural Oregon, the film has much to recommend it: compelling creepy characters; superb acting; first-rate visuals; gritty intensity; and taut pacing, clocking in at 96 minutes. But most memorably, “Strange Darling” upends our expectations of the genre in a strikingly original way.

Bookended by stark black and white photography, the film opens with a moody shot, introducing us to the two leads: the red-headed, doe-eyed Lady (Willa Fitzgerald) and the clean-cut, rugged Demon (Kyle Gallner) – two easy-on-the-eyes, mutually attracted strangers who are sitting in the Demon’s truck swigging booze late one night, deciding whether they will take their party to a room at the nearby Blue Angel hotel. She comments that violence is always a risk for a woman in this situation and asks him if he’s a serial killer. He says no. From there, the story unfolds in six non-linear chapters.

Chapter 3 “Can you please help me?” comes first (and the phrase pops up several times throughout the movie). The next morning, the Lady, pale and frail but wiry, is now a blonde and has changed into hideous red scrubs. Driving a red Pinto, she floors it frantically down a quiet road. The gun-toting Demon is in determined, coke-fueled pursuit, but she escapes into dense, sun-dappled woods and eventually pounds on the door of a rustic cabin, occupied by hippie/doomsdayers (with a penchant for butter-laden breakfasts) Genevieve (Barbara Hershey) and Frederick (Ed Begley Jr.), and they let her in.

Terrified, wounded, hungry and hungover, she feasts, like a feral animal, on what’s left of their hearty morning meal. But when Frederick suggests they call the cops, the Lady vehemently disagrees. (Later, we do meet two officers, well played by Steven Michael Quezada and Madisen Beaty, who fall into a figurative snare that’s constructed from gender stereotypes.)

To reveal more of the plot would ruin the movie, so suffice to say as writer/director JT Mollner skillfully puts the puzzle pieces together, holes are tightened and questions are answered. That is, except for the most perplexing, probably unanswerable, question: how do people become crazy enough to go on a bloody killing binge with zero remorse?

The Demon (Kyle Gallner) is on a mission in rural Oregon.

Watching this masterful work, you feel the influence of Quentin Tarantino, the Coen brothers, Martin Scorsese, Michael Mann, David Lynch and Alfred Hitchcock. Mollner delivers a picture (his second) that’s bold, clever, sordid and sometimes darkly comic. Shot in 35 mm by cinematographer Giovanni Ribisi, “Strange Darling” is great-looking throughout – boasting rich color and arresting compositions. Composer Craig DeLeon’s score and original songs written and performed by Z Berg help to sustain the suspenseful mood.

Additionally, Mollner elicits terrific performances from the entire cast and especially from the captivating Fitzgerald as she pulls out all the stops playing a Lady you’ll never forget and Gallner, by turns sinister and phlegmatic; threatening and vulnerable.

Granted, “Strange Darling” won’t be everyone’s cup of blood. It’s a dark dive into the world of a serial killer, so if gore and graphic violence are a deal-breaker, you’ll want to give this a pass. (Also, if you’re looking for deep, thoughtful commentary on gender roles and sexual politics, look elsewhere.)

But for those who dig crime tales, sly, stylish “Strange Darling” takes us on a weird and wild ride.

“Strange Darling” opened Aug. 23 and is playing in theaters nationwide.

‘Black Swan’ charts madness, dreamily voluptuous terror

Black Swan/ 2010/ Fox Searchlight Pictures/ 108 min.

Michael Wilmington

With the Oscars this Sunday, I want to highlight a contender with intriguing noir elements: “Black Swan.” Critic Michael Wilmington shares his thoughts on director Darren Aronofsky’s latest foray into tortured psyches and Natalie Portman’s startling performance.

Who makes crazier art movies — agonized characters, trapped in more nightmarish fixes — than Darren Aronofsky? David Lynch, Bong Joon-ho and Roman Polanski, maybe, but few others. A specialist in tales of the brilliantly sick and the sickly brilliant, Aronofsky has spun, with disorienting intensity, barmy movie stories of a crazed math genius going nuts on the stock market (in “Pi”), of a family of lower- depths junkies and pill-poppers flipping out together (“Requiem for a Dream”), and of a  battered, over-the-hill wrestler putting himself through hell for one last fight (“The Wrestler.”) In “The Fountain,” Aronofsky’s whole universe went bonkers, in segments.

And in his latest movie, the justly hailed but occasionally (understandably) ridiculed dance melodrama “Black Swan,” this chronicler of mad lives charts the psychological disintegration of a young, ambitious New York ballerina named Nina Sayers (played by Natalie Portman with ferocious dedication), who’s been given the dream role of the swan princess of Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake” at Lincoln Center and promptly goes over the edge into some kind of madness, as well as, apparently, self-mutilation, paranoid fantasies and sexual hysteria.

As we watch, Nina whirls and leaps and goes delusional. And the camera seems to whirl and leap and go delusional along with her, executing wild leaps and dizzying spins, peeking over her shoulder, Polanski-like, wherever she goes. When the ballet company’s seductive bully of a master choreographer, Thomas Leroy (played by French star Vincent Cassel, as a kind of sexy, sadistic puppet-master) casts Nina as the lead in Tchaikovsky’s classic ballet, replacing his former prima ballerina, Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder, who plays Beth like a mad, self-destructive witch), he’s simultaneously anointing her and hurling her into hell.

When he tells Nina she’s ideal casting  for half the part (the role of the pure white swan) but not the other half (the wicked black swan), he’s dropping her into an inferno of nightmares, hurling a dart at the splintering psyche we glimpse beneath Nina’s “Persona”-like, beautiful, introverted face.      

Aronofsky bombards us with Nina’s fears and desires, in scenes of dreamily voluptuous terror. The ballet studio and stage become arenas of paranoia. So does her home, an art-cluttered Manhattan apartment she shares with her painter mother Erica (Barbara Hershey).

Stricken with fear, Nina tears and rips at her own flesh, on her shoulder blades, her hands, near her cuticles, and then the cuts are mysteriously healed.  She’s flung into predatory sexual escapades or fantasies, involving Thomas, and her main rival, Lily (Mila Kunis), whom Thomas says is the perfect Black Swan, and who (seemingly) dives between Nina’s legs one night, a fling that Lilly then denies. (“You fantasized about me? Was I good?” she asks delightedly.)

As the fantasies (?) rage, Nina becomes ill, is berated by Thomas, attacked by Beth, played for a fool (maybe) by her rival Lilly, bossed by her devoted yet domineering mother. Nina works herself into near-collapse, her mind unhinges, her body is ripped open. Lilly plays the part of seductress/rival/friend, the earthy black swan against Nina’s ethereal white. Amid this accelerating chaos, the beauty and classicism and first night of “Swan Lake” looms.

But how much of this is really happening? Is there really a theater, really a company, even really a white and black swan? We know some it is real, some of it a dream. We can never be too sure which is which. That’s what makes the movie so interesting. It hovers on camp, of course. More than hovers: it swoops and circles and dives right in. [Read more…]