It was 10 years since Nicolas Winding Refn made a feature film – the last, The Neon Demonplayed in competition at Cannes in 2016where its mix of high fashion horror has divided the audience. Ten years have passed but Refn’s directorial sensibilities remain the same – his giallo-inspired His Private Hell it caused a stir on the Croisette, where it started Get out of Competition, heralding the filmmaker’s return to features following his own The TV continue with Too Old to Die Young again Copenhagen Cowboy.
There are some similarities between The Neon Demon again His Private Hell – Sophie Thatcher, who plays a young actress named Elle, looks like Elle Fanning, and it wouldn’t be a Refn film without her signature neon pink and blue. He stars in a sci-fi film at the request of his father Johnny Thunders’ (Dougray Scott), along with his stepmother Dominique (Havana Rose Liu) and newly arrived ingénue (Kristine Froseth). Meanwhile, a serial killer called the Leather Man is on the hunt for the city’s young women, and America The GI Private Kay (Charles Melton) is searching for his missing daughter. So far, so far Refn – but unfortunately an interesting prospect does not translate into an interesting film.
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Refn has always been open about his homage to Italian horror, tripling it up here by hiring the legendary Pino Donaggio. His Private Hell The result. His atmospheric and dramatic lines contrast with the foggy and sparseness of Tokyo’s Kabukicho district, which is full of mysterious Yakuza and a woman who owns a shop selling fancy children’s clothes and dolls. The filmmaker has never been short on style, but there’s something fluid about it His Private Hell.‘aesthetic, as if Refn’s film was eaten by an algorithm and spat out with a standard paste, and the use of Japanese footage feels particularly lazy and stereotypical, something that may have transcended the exploitation films that Refn respects but feels out of date in the present day.
The pace of the film doesn’t help either – Thatcher, Liu and Froseth talk like they’re on muscle relaxants, and there’s never a sense of urgency despite the killer walking around tearing bodies in two with his diamond-encrusted gloves. It’s hard to say whether Thatcher and Liu are missing or their roles are poorly written (probably both) as they do little more than breathe. .“Father!” over and over again, but Charles Melton is easily the standout, especially in the few fight scenes that provide a welcome boost.
While it’s encouraging that after a decade away from features, Refn seems more than happy to do his own thing, it’s troubling that he seems completely uninterested in furthering his vision or expanding his style. This is a pale imitation of what we know he’s capable of that feels more like a proof of concept than a polished homecoming.
