When
we last saw writer-director Alex Ross Perry, that acerbic and wry mumblecore
filmmaker with an uncanny ability to mire viewers in the disquieting psychological
vortex of self-destructive behavior, he took a breather from the singular
character study for the still acidic but less renowned ensemble
bad-relationship drama Golden Exits. The film reunited Perry with his Listen Up Philip lead Jason Schwartzman and
bore the usual unpleasantries fans have come to expect from Perry’s films.
However,
after scoring two home runs with Listen
Up Philip and Queen of Earth,
many were dismissive of the ensemble Golden
Exits and regarded it as a minor misfire for Perry. Fear not, however, as the corrosive writer-director
is back in full swing with his seventh and most technically accomplished
feature film yet: the dark and tense story of a fading punk rock star on the
fateful night of her journey to rock bottom Her
Smell.
In
the third collaboration with Elisabeth Moss after her brief appearance in Listen Up Philip before stealing the
show with Perry’s masterful Queen of
Earth, Her Smell follows musician
and vocalist Becky Something (Moss) as she leads her band Something She and everyone connected to her down a turbulent and
volatile path.
Broken
apart into five disparate segments cross-cutting between the band’s past
successes leading up to their present downturn, the film largely remains
backstage capturing the fierce and unhinged Becky Something on her intoxicated,
selfish self-destructive tirades as she proceeds to alienate her bandmates,
producers, managers and even friends and/or family. No one, not even her mother Ania (Virginia
Madsen), ex-husband Danny (Dan Stevens) or her manager Howard Goodman (Eric
Stoltz) seem able to get through to her as she continues to travel down a warpath
towards monstrosity.
Much
like Queen of Earth, Perry is less
interested in getting to the bottom of the nastiness than he is in dropping you
in the middle of the madness before making you feel the surrounding characters’
pain. Think of the behind-the-scenes
drama of Mark Rydell’s The Rose with
the ugly in-fighting amplified past the point of most moviegoers’ level of
tolerance. From the moment Moss’ edgy
rocker appears onscreen, we can’t think of any reason to like her and she only grows
worse as the picture bores on.
And
yet like a motor vehicle accident we can’t look away from, Moss is captivating
as Becky, easily eclipsing her own towering portrait of madness in Queen of Earth. Darting around the film’s 2.35:1 widescreen
frame (a first for Perry who ordinarily shoots in 1.85:1), Moss comes across as
a whirlwind force of nature oblivious to the damage being left in her
wake.
As
with his prior works, Perry reunites with his usual collaborators including
cinematographer Sean Price Williams whose trademark grainy images and
uncomfortably tight close-ups coupled with composer Keegan DeWitt’s tense and
nerve-wracking electronic score work to create a truly disquieting environment
for the film’s poor supporting characters to be in. At times the music, co-written by musician
Alicia Bognanno, plays like ambient sound design with key white noise effects
reverberating like a furnace or cooker pot ready to blow from overheating.
Though
the film frequently jumps back and forth between past and present, editor
Robert Greene who has worked on pretty much all of Perry’s films manages to
keep the viewer’s headspace grounded in the backstage room despite the
chronological leaps the picture makes.
It’s an impressive feat in how you’re able to catch glimpses of the band’s
formulation and successes without ever feeling like we’ve escaped the Hell of
the band’s frontwoman’s making.
Her Smell is unquestionably the
writer-director’s most technically accomplished and star-studded work yet and his
first foray into panoramic widescreen photography is a welcome evolutionary
step for him. It also undoubtedly
contains a white-hot performance from it’s leading lady who makes Bette Midler’s
drugged up rocker in The Rose look civilized
and sober by comparison.
If
I had to voice any complaints, admittedly the film’s denouement which tends
towards the clichés of your typical VH1 –
Behind the Music documentaries seems at odds with the picture preceding it.
Watching it I couldn’t help but wonder
if it might have been more effective to repeat the paths taken by Listen Up Philip or Queen of Earth which simply abruptly ended at the central
protagonist’s logical climax.
That
said, Her Smell will nevertheless leave
you feeling rattled by the volatility of the film’s central punk rocker in the
throes of her own downward spiral. Whether
we fully understand what’s driving Becky’s mean streak and destructive
behavior, what we know for sure is what it must feel like to be in the same
room with her.
Score:
- Andrew Kotwicki