We've seen plenty of movies about Hollywood being a cruel, disappointing facade that shatters dreams on a daily basis, but this particular take feels especially sardonic. In its best moments, The Day of the Locust is a dark, searing indictment of its setting and culture, with characters that are doomed to fail and a visual style that somehow manages to turn warm, sunny imagery into a nightmarish hellscape.
This "best", however, can be a little few and far between. Perhaps that was the intention, though - the movie definitely has a meandering vibe to it, alternating from one perspective to the next on a dime and including scenes that probably would've been cut from something more polished. These detours only occasionally work, and the result is a slightly sluggish middle hour, but they certainly drive home the gaudy and messy atmosphere that Schlesinger was no doubt shooting for.
And then we reach the climax, where the movie finally reaches the grotesque and operatic heights that it's been alluding to for the entire runtime. Celebrity worship is cleverly juxtaposed against brutal street violence, and the result is an apocalyptic riot, one that's rife with mass destruction and horrific imagery. It's excessive in a way that perfectly matches the overall tone and scale, and closes this bitter satire with an unusual sense of fulfillment.
Grade: B+
No comments:
Post a Comment