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Beauty is not everything. It’s the only thing.

There’s a scene in The Neon Demon featuring a young model, hands on her hips, striking a series of unnatural poses. Her eyelids are covered in glittering grey powder and and her purple lipstick glistens under the flourescent lighting. She stands in front of a white backdrop and before the camera pans out to reveal the entire studio, it seems as if her body is sinking into the white floor and spreading across the white walls. The photographer stands a few metres away, closely watched by his team of make-up artists and designers. There is no music, no dialogue, and hardly any movement; only the incisive snap of the camera’s shutter serves to remind us that this is indeed part of a film and not a painting. It is hypnotic, chilling and visually stunning and while the scene only lasts a few minutes, it effectively conveys the power of Nicholas Winding Refn’s vision.

I was excited to see this film just from the sound of the title alone. The Neon Demon suggests a bizarre science fiction story, perhaps influenced by the likes of Lynch and Cronenberg and sporting a few grotesque satanic beasts and gory deaths.  As it turns out, The Neon Demon does not contain any luminous creatures from hell or a Naked Lunch homage.  Instead, it contains another a form of psychological horror. The story follows Jesse, a young girl moving to LA to pursue her dreams of becoming a model. Terror ensues as we realise that the people surrounding her in the fashion world are hell-bent on consuming the one thing she possesses: her beauty.  Nicholas Winding Refn’s previous projects include the highly acclaimed Drive and the universally panned Only God Forgives (who could forget the crowd booing at its screening at the Cannes Festival in 2013?). This year at Cannes, The Neon Demon also received a jeering reaction from the crowd. Having seen it, I can understand why.  It is a film that continues Refn’s unconventional style; taut with with suspense and loaded with body-horror, Despite its incendiary ideas, The Neon Demon never loses sight of the story’s core theme of coming-of-age in an image-obsessed culture.

In the starring role, Elle Fanning is incandescent. Her porcelain skin, bright blonde hair and doe-eyes are matched by her incredible acting ability. She is further  bolstered by the support of Keanu Reeves and Christina Hendricks (whose shared screen time stands at a disappointing twenty minutes). Jena Malone, who plays the unhinged Ruby, deserves equal amounts of praise as her co-star Fanning. The city of Los Angeles is also a notable figure. Some of the exposition shots are akin to the reality programmes that we all guiltily watch on E; skyscrapers and million dollar cars, sun-kissed skin and toned bodies. And then there are scenes that include bobcats on motel beds, flashing neon triangles and vampiric models on the prowl. Additionally, the score, written by Cliff Martinez, is jarring and electrifying, infused with booming bass and the infamous use of synthesisers that coloured Drive‘s soundtrack. The Neon Demon is beautifully crafted, that is hardly disputable. However, at times, it feels that Refn is more concerned with the aesthetic of his picture than its substance (take a moment to appreciate the irony of that too).  

What will inexorably divide critics and movie-goers is the graphic violence and a horrific scene featuring necrophilia (which apparently, was improvised). Refn’s latest film teeters between reality and illusion, outright horror and psychological thriller. The director’s propensity towards lavishness, across all his projects, is difficult for some to swallow. He is, in many ways, the Baz Luhrman of the ‘art horror’ genre that has emerged in recent years, (think Black Swan, Stoker). After seeing this, you will either feel the urge to bow before Refn himself or spit on the stub of your ticket. I sincerely hope that it’s the former.