The Neon Demon
I first caught The Neon Demon at the cinema back when it came out in 2016 and remember being utterly mesmerised from start to finish. I’ve watched it a few times since but even during my most recent rewatch I remained dazzled by how visually stunning it is.
Director Nicholas Winding Refn has been quoted as referring to the work as ‘a horror film about beauty’, with inspiration drawn from the tale of vain vampiress Elizabeth Bathory. Whilst The Neon Demon is characterised primarily as a horror film, it subverts the genre expectations – instead primarily focussing on the beauty of horror, or conversely, the horror of beauty.
The meticulous attention to detail is apparent from the get go and every single scene is carefully designed to be a stand alone image worthy of splattering the pages of a glossy magazine. The Neon Demon feels like a continuous high fashion, editorial photoshootand the viewer is continually drawn in by the striking composition, avant garde costuming and increasingly macabre events. The Neon Demon successfully displays the beauty in the grotesque and the audience is transfixed as the horror develops – unable to look away from the dazzling scarlet of some of the bloodier scenes.
The film follows the young, naive Jesse as she navigates the complex expectations of the modelling industry. Having relocated to LA after the death of her parents, Jesse tries to find her place in the world – attempting to make connections in an environment where emotions are a weakness and motivations are unclear. The Neon Demon uses metaphorical imagery to highlight the predatory nature of Jesse’s new world where so many are ready to dig in their claws and rip her apart.
The young protagonist is portrayed by Elle Fanning – 16 at the time of filming and a perfect choice for the innocent aspiring model despite the potentially uncomfortable parallels with reality in the industry’s lust for youth.
The predominately female cast land some strong performances, despite the cold, detached delivery of dialogue. The vapid, expressionless models brought to life perfectly by Abbey Lee Kershaw and Bella Heathcote. Jenna Malone in particular delivers a compelling portrayal of lonely make up artist Ruby who, despite her friendly nature, still manages to seem dead inside – hints of her own internal struggle only seeping through during a controversial scene where she seeks comfort and closeness with a corpse.
In her solitude, Jesse seems vulnerable – an apparently desirable characteristic – and whilst some animals lay in wait, lurking in the shadows – others are out in the open – engulfed in the harsh lights of a sterile closed set.
The visuals of the film are complemented perfectly by the music from Cliff Martinez (who perhaps most notably provided the music for Drive – an aesthetically similar feature) whose synthwave score reflects the retro futuristic vibe of the movie.
The harsh, cold nature of the seasoned models falters only briefly – when the strain of seeking aesthetic perfection begins to take its toll. Buying in to the mantra that beauty is pain, the models continually seek new ways of enhancing and preserving – whatever the cost. The Neon Demon is a narrative on the loneliness of beauty – both seeking it and having it. An endeavour that is ultimately futile as despite subjecting themselves to surgical intervention, the women are told ‘you can always tell when beauty is manufactured’.
As Jesse gets sucked into the vacuous void, we see her harden in order to withstand, eventually devolving into the perfect blank canvas – a faceless clothes hanger entirely devoid of emotion and driven by vanity. But perfection is elusive and like beauty, fleeting. Everyone wants a piece of her, to consume her – be it visually, sexually or in the films climax – literally.
Whilst The Neon Demon may not have the most complex or thrilling storyline – it is a captivating artwork that continues to deliver, entice and reveal on each rewatch. Visually stunning, it is a film that says a lot more than it first appears on the surface. Some have criticised The Neon Demon as focusing on style over substance but I’d argue the style is the substance – with the meaning woven between the powerful visuals. It is definitely up there with one of my favourite films of all time and admittedly my love for it probably means I view it through some (suitably stylish and designer) rose tinted specs.
I’d love to hear what others think about The Neon Demon.
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