Nocturnal Animals

If the opening assault on the eyes (especially male eyes) was supposed to capture the female protagonist’s lack of taste and judgment (because we find ourselves in her gallery), it would be possible to understand her subsequent enthusiasm for Edward’s trashy novel built on the most moronic plot twists and populated with caricatures of Southern rednecks, hysterical husbands and indomitable sheriffs. If, however, the film really required us to keep a critical (and cynical) distance from a protagonist who is so unprepared for the real world that she can’t even unwrap a package that she receives (after cutting herself, she leaves the job to an assistant), the melodramatic conclusion, which instead relies on our identification with Susan, would not make any sense. I’m not sure how seriously Ford wants us to take Nocturnal Animals. In any case, it can’t be taken too seriously. The characters are one-dimensional. Instead of impactful statements, we have trite phrases, which the characters use to reveal their emotional state to us (instead of acting it out). In Susan’s world, everyone and everything primarily has to look good, which sometimes applies and sometimes doesn’t in the world of the book Susan is reading. It is thus probably not true (or at least not all the time) that she projects into the novel what she wants to have in it as its plot materialises before our eyes. Or perhaps the fetishes of women from better society include Aaron Taylor-Johnson ostentatiously wiping his ass? I suspect the director himself did not have a clear idea of how (self-)ironic and deliberately campy he wanted the film to be, nor how much he wanted the romantic and spiritual to take precedence over material values. The result is a trio of films – a Southern thriller, a melodrama about class differences and a satire of the world of snobs who judge others based on whether they own the latest iPhone – that are all quite entertaining in places, but most of the time come across as much more serious and self-important than would be fitting, considering their hollowness. 65% (11/23/2016)

Beautifully shot and stylized, outstanding music and magnificently performed, bombastic and snobbish nothing. The worst thing is that the final unraveling scene (and it doesn't matter which of the two or three possible interpretations you chose) does not justify the would-be ingenious formal construction as a mindfuck. It rather fully shows that instead of three different story line layers, one main story line would be more than enough to achieve the same effect and convey the same message (for all three possible messages). However, introductory hardcore subtitles should be kept as they are the best and most subversive part of it. (11/21/2016)

Ford had me spellbound in a way, no doubt about it. In terms of direction, this is truly first-rate stuff with the highly addictive and suffocating atmosphere of the Texas backwoods, for which I have an indescribable fondness on the movie screen. The story has laudable intentions and really does a brilliant job of illustrating the contrast between the opulence and absurdity of the L.A. lifestyle with the uncompromising arid wasteland, but it still comes across as somewhat disjointed, failing to deliver anything very new in the individual details, some of the dialogues could have been better written by Dežo from Most, and the twist is weak, not so much in meaning as in the way it’s delivered, including the final passage that basically says nothing (the only direct criticism of Ford). But what elevates the whole spectacle is the delicious atmospheric soundtrack, and above all the actors; but while Adams and Gyllenhaal are good by default, Johnson surprises madly and gives his characterless boor a lot verve, as well as the amazing Michael Shannon as a detective, who once again shows that he is one of the most interesting dramatic actors of today... In their company, and under Ford's firm guidance, I'm looking forward to the next screening quite a bit. This film will mature a lot. (12/11/2016)

Tom Ford is once again dealing with loss. Visually and narratively, he goes one step further than when he introduced us to A Single Man, but this time it is much more unpleasant, although certainly not unfriendly to the viewer. It's just that the Texan noir that the main character reads is so dark, depressing, and hopeless that at times I didn't even want to look at the screen. But that would be a shame because the flood of metaphors, which can drill a decent hole in the viewer's head, is enormous, and the resulting impact is tremendous. The parallels between the book and Susan are incredibly clever, and although the ending itself ruins the enjoyment for some with its antikathartic boldness, it burrowed into me almost painfully. (10/29/2018)

Bulls-eye. I seemed like I was watching something that I had written. Ford does some fantastic work with narrative levels. The message (even that of the sub-story) isn’t revolutionary in any way, but the journey toward it is thought out down to the smallest detail. The same as the contrast between good and evil, between the decadent and the ordinary inside you conceals an unusual magic reality. Both Gyllenhaal and Adams are excellent. Fantastic music. Plus stylish opening credits with the current face of America. (11/25/2016)