Review of The Neon Demon (2016) by Jewels-Pixie — 04 Nov 2016

Deliciously darkly decadent with any initial sweetness existing in the characters drawn away like a hungry needle giving blood.

This visually striking masterpiece glitters it's way onto the screen with shimmering chimerical glimmers of sound and vision that transports the viewer to a place of elation and euphoria seemingly effortlessly ,in the blink of an eye.

Elle Fanning's character is 16 and embarking on a modelling career.

This is the height of visual aesthetic lusciousness and psychological yumminess and it has a soundtrack that gets so far under your veins,that it will become your life support.

Never has Heidi Klum's well known Project Runway phrase been more apt 'In fashion, one day youre in ,and the next, you're out.' And it is only the male gaze that decides whether someone is 'special'.

Exploring the impossible man-made, mysognynistic ideas of what femininity should be and how women and girls have become so obsessed with achieving this utopian ever-shifting image, an idea. In the flutter of Elle Fanning's fittingly doll-like eyes ,we see women talking in fairly high-pitched little girl voices,infantalised , glossed over girls ,all morphing into one gigantic combination of doll parts.Pricked and prodded surgically enhanced ,with the duality of natural beauty and cosmetic beauty ....? but somewhere along the line ,blink ,blink.blink and the lines become blurred. What length will we ,as women ,allow ourselves to go to, to achieve beauty.....This is sisterhood in a toxic ,ruthless ,enthralling stance.

With a largely female cast (satisfying the Bechdel test) ,each as equally arresting in their performance as the next,and all are entrancing, in a superhuman powerful kind of way. A huge nod of respect to Elle Fanning, by Jena Malone, Bella Heathcote, Abbey Lee, the core of the cast.

The collaborative writing genius of directed by Nicolas Winding Refn, co-written by Mary Laws, Polly Stenham, and genius director Refn, the threesome that have created what in the duration of the movie becomes akin to Frankenstein's monster.

It's a Freudian ,Lacanian's dream. Woman representing the phallus ,that fallacy dreamt up by the whole Oedipal Scenario, where in attempts to attain the high stakes of this paradox it's every girl for herself and beauty and ugliness spar like you have never seen before. Lustrre and radiance dance together before us in a way that has the sort of addictive imagery of Kubrick and then some. Majestic riches and sparse scenes are reminiscent of a Miles Aldridge post-modern photoshoot. Lies become the truth and the truth becomes a lie, pop will eat itself and heartbreak shatters a cavernous headspace that will leave you bereft.

A thought provoking , compelling, statuesque monster of a psychological thriller.

Cinematic excellence.