Review of Mandy (2018) by Bertaut1 — 27 Oct 2018

Entertainingly insane.

Equal parts psychotropic horror and grindhouse revenge thriller, Mandy is the second feature from director and co-writer Panos Cosmatos. And although it would be impossible to recommend to everyone, there is an undeniable brilliance here. An insane brilliance. But a brilliance none-the-less. Although it could (somewhat legitimately) be accused of too much style and not enough substance, Cosmatos mixes an expressionist aesthetic with horror tropes, a generic revenge narrative, and comedy beats, resulting in a film quite unlike anything I've seen.

Set in "1983 A.D.", the film tells the story of Red Miller (Nicholas Cage), and his girlfriend, aspiring fantasy artist Mandy Bloom (Andrea Riseborough), who live a simple secluded life in the Shadow Mountains. When Mandy is spotted by the Children of the New Dawn, a religious cult led by failed folk singer Jeremiah Sand (Linus Roache), he becomes infatuated with her, using the "Horn of Abraxas" to summon the Black Skulls, a trio of demonic bikers addicted to a highly potent form of LSD. Along with the Skulls, the Children invade Red and Mandy's cabin, tying Red up in barbed wire outside, and leaving him for dead. Unbeknownst to the Children, however, Red survives and sets out in pursuit of both the cult and the Skulls.

One of the things that will jump out at you as you watch Mandy is that Cosmatos packs the narrative with an extraordinary amount of cultural references,. Prior to hearing any dialogue, there is an audio extract of President Ronald Reagan speaking about how the vast majority of Americans are disgusted by porn. Mandy's art is not recalls Roger Dean, whilst the film's animated sections recall Heavy Metal. Indeed, the general aesthetic is equal parts Bat Out of Hell and Iron Maiden. The Children of the New Dawn is obviously inspired by the Peoples Temple of the Disciples of Christ and the Manson Family. The home invasion bears more than a passing resemblance to similar such scenes in The Last House on the Left (1972) and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986). The revenge narrative has something of the original Mad Max (1979) about it. Sand's "Amulet of the Weeping Maze" is inspired by The Carpenters. Red wears a Mötley Crüe t-shirt, and tells an awesome Erik Estrada/CHiPs (1977) joke. During a discussion about which planet is their favourite, Mandy selects Jupiter, but Red argues for Galactus. The Black Skulls are obviously inspired by the Cenobites from Hellraiser (1987). The Children's A-frame chapel resembles the church in There Will Be Blood (2007).

The score is the most pseudo-John Carpenter 80s music imaginable, composed by Jóhann Jóhannsson, in one of his last compositions prior to his untimely death. Indeed, the score is almost another character entirely, and the film simply wouldn't work half as well if the music wasn't as good.

Director of photography Benjamin Loeb bathes his compositions in purples, reds, indigos, yellows, greens, and oranges, with the occasional blue (primarily associated with Mandy herself). Often the colours are non-diegetic and unexplained (for example the Horn of Abraxas always appears in green light, irrespective of location). The cinematography also employs a plethora of subjective techniques, such as double lens flares, animation, slow-motion fades and dissolves, and telephoto shots.

Very much a film of two halves, if the first brings us to the gates of hell, the second pushes us in and slams the gates shut behind us. The two halves are divided by an extraordinary single-shot 45-second scene of Red (wearing only underpants and a t-shirt) pouring vodka over his wounds, drinking what's left, and screaming. It's a scene of extraordinarily raw emotion that works brilliantly, because you simply don't often see a male protagonist this vulnerable. Indeed, it's not beyond the realms of possibility that one could read Mandy, at least in part, as a meditation on the destructive nature of profound grief, and if so, that interpretation begins right here. Yes, there is more than a hint of an archetypal dualistic cosmology underpinning Red's revenge, particularly Zoroastrianism and Manichaeism, but so too is it a deeply personalised quest.

There are some problems, however. For starters, it's kind of disappointing when you realise that for all its technical prowess and fascinating aesthetic gymnastics, it's just a revenge flick, and at over two hours, it tends to drag a little in places. The screenplay (by Cosmatos and Aaron Stewart-Ahn) can also be too on the nose at times and doesn't give Red a huge amount of depth.

Yes, it's all kind of pointless. However, love it or loathe it, there's no denying that it's brilliantly assembled. As an audio-visual experience, it's unlike anything I've seen in a long time, and it's almost certainly destined for cult status.