By Will Unsworth
I was stunned when I saw X. Stunned because of the reaction it got from critics. In fact, Nate Roscoe of Fangoria felt moved enough to write an essay, discussing how the film had earned its place in the pantheon of psycho biddy films: a gross-out sub-genre of horror that portrays the elderly as grotesque killers. Other examples of which can be found in M. Night Shayamalan’s The Visit; Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby; even as far back as 1962’s Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? All these films tap into a fear that anybody who’s visited an elderly care-home can relate to. “Who are these shambling creeps? They smell like death, remind me of death, and they want my youthful face.” (On a side note, perhaps this reminder of our own mortality is what inspired the aimless, rotting flesh eaters of George A. Romero’s Dead trilogy.)
But back to X. Critics also compared it to Psycho, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, even my beloved Boogie Nights. These last three are comparisons not to be taken lightly, given each film’s perfectness. I was surprised by all these positive comparisons because I found X to be a relatively sub-par film that, at best, paid homage to the greats. But never actually lent hard enough into any one of its influences to be effective either which way.
Not only that, but the film never moved me. Sympathy, empathy, empowerment, fear, threat, X offers none of these, and ends up being a relatively anodyne fanboy flick. Not much to write home - or essays - about.
I was even more surprised when I heard X was the first instalment in a trilogy and that a sequel, Pearl, was to come out the same year. Where were they going to take this series that, in my opinion, barely had a leg to carry one film? Let alone three. Naturally, I had to find out. And what a film Ti and Mia (Tia?) had in store for us. It was an ingeniously warped fairy-tale, a subversion of technicolour films like Mary Poppins and The Wizard Of Oz, with a performance from Goth that should have earned her the Oscar for Best Actress. Not only does it contain references to films so obscure, it made Martin Scorsese cream his drawers, but it was a rock-solid and demented Disney-style film which took Goth’s Pearl on a journey of self-discovery - family problems, scarecrow-shagging, heartbreak, feeding remains to an alligator - all culminating in a darkly funny and bloody climax. An expertly-executed cautionary “sting-in-the-tale” about the dangers of pursuing your hopes and dreams.
Colour me excited then, for the hot-on-the-heels follow-up: MaXXXine. A neon-drenched video cassette descent into 1980s Los Angeles. Goth plays not-so-fresh-faced Maxine Minx, who - after the events of X and mirroring Pearl’s arc - wants to elevate her career beyond porn and take Hollywood by storm. But before she can become one of LA’s angels, Minx must face its underworld of stalkers, killers, private detectives, prudish lynch-mobs, satanic panics, and tyrannical directors, not to mention her own demons.
Within the first ten minutes of the film, we are treated to another barnstorming performance from Goth. Maxine auditions for the controversial Puritan II, the film-within-a-film B movie homage to The Crucible. Certain she’s got the gig, she marches off, telling the other auditioning actors to go home because “I just fucking nailed that!”
A few minutes later, we’re treated to a music video-style nighttime saunter through LA, seen through cinematographer Eliot Rockett’s seedy old pan-and-scan video eye. Intermixed with a taped-over-newsreel montage of the film’s backdrop, predominated by the threat of the Night Stalker, a real-life serial killer who preyed on young women at - surprise, surprise - night. Lay over some credits torn straight from a synth-wave album cover, and you have yourself an 80s fetishist’s wet dream. What follows is a film-loving-feminist look at the difficulty in transitioning career paths in a life fraught with desperation. Desperation not only to be famous, but to survive in a dangerous and uncaring world. Maxine’s former life as a porn-star, not to mention a murder-spree-survivor, is at odds with her desire to be amongst the stars and to shake off death, which follows her around every steam-filled street corner. It’s a film about the desire to be immortal, tying up the trilogy in a neat little thematic bow. Sounds like a recipe for greatness, doesn’t it?
I was stunned as I watched Maxine. Stunned because I realised, around halfway, I wasn’t enjoying myself. And why? It has all the ingredients I love. It is a film about films and the history of Hollywood. It’s about weirdos and outsiders, it’s got an amazing performance at its centre, it’s set in the 80s. And did I mention horror is my bread and butter?
The issue was staring me in the face in that opening music video title sequence. Distracting me with its trojan horse aesthetics, away from the fatal blow: “Written and Directed by Ti West.” Don’t get me wrong, Ti West has made some films I’ve liked in the past. Alright, two films. Being House Of The Devil and Pearl. But I think the former was a fluke for West’s writing abilities. And the latter has a key ingredient in the co-writer department: Mia Goth. Without Mia Goth’s magic touch, I’m not convinced Ti West knows how to write compelling drama. After MaXXXine’s intriguing set-up - in which Maxine emasculates a stalker, before receiving video-tapes containing damning evidence against her a la Lost Highway - the film flounders as it relieves its central character of any and all responsibility. Maxine’s fix-it-all agent - played by Giancarlo Esposito - dispatches Kevin Bacon’s harassing private detective for her. Then Michelle Monaghan and Bobby Cannavale’s LAPD detectives have the climactic confrontation with the disappointingly revealed puppet master. All Maxine has to do is finish the job with a shotgun blast to the face. Maxine’s character has no agency in any of the film’s showdowns. Which would be fine if there was any obstacle for Maxine to overcome in her acting career. But aside from a few minor hiccups - being late to set once or twice - there really is no challenge. From the start, she’s a great actor, she remains a great actor throughout, and winds up a great actor. So where for the character to go? When there is no journey for our protagonist, there is no drama. Ergo, you have an uninteresting film.
“But Will, you mentioned Boogie Nights earlier. And Mark Wahlberg’s character starts the film as a working porn actor and ends up a working porn actor. Where is the journey there?” I hear you scream. Well, I’ll tell you, but keep your voice down.
Boogie Nights is a rise-and-fall film, a rags-to-riches story. In Boogie Nights, Mark Wahlberg’s Dirk Diggler starts the film as a great sexual performer. He enters the porn industry, enjoys great success due to his endless libido and perfect penis. But the dramatic turning point is when the fame goes to his head. He ends up too high on his own supply - not to mention the smell of his own farts - to realise he is yesterday’s news and the industry has moved on without him. After a drug-addled confrontation, he is sacked from Burt Reynolds’ porn production company where, until now, he has enjoyed enormous success. Dirk spirals into addiction, and dabbles in music, before resorting to drug peddling, during which, a near-death experience puts him back on track to becoming a porn-star again, albeit in a new world of porn.
In a nutshell, that’s the story of Boogie Nights. The key here is that Dirk Diggler is influenced by the story; his actions have an impact on the world which creates ripple complications. These ripples eventually turn into a wave that the character must face head-on before ending up in a newly established calm. That, in a few sentences, is screenwriting 101. Your main character needs to be influenced by the plot, but they also need to influence the plot.
In comparison, Maxine goes through no real trials or tribulations. We never see her daily struggles on-set while making The Puritan II. Aside from her aforementioned tardiness, we are given a brief panic attack while in the special effects department, which has no real effect on anything. Not only this, but Maxine goes through more cocaine than Stephen King, John Belushi, and Kate Moss combined. And there is no consequence to this - good or bad. She doesn’t have an embarrassing encounter with her strong-willed director (like in Boogie Nights), the cocaine doesn’t imbue her with “Columbian courage” during some climactic showdown. It’s just more stuff happening. And that’s what the film is. Not good drama, not engaging on a character level. Just stuff.
After everything has been sorted out by every other character, we are shown an epilogue of Maxine on the red carpet, dreams achieved. We are just meant to assume she did a great job with the acting. Why isn’t a film showing us these key character-developments? By the end, she may have processed some family trauma, but none of it feels earned.
MaXXXine is a frustrating experience. I wanted to see the anti-heroine stick it to her tormenter in a satisfying way. But the film doesn’t deem this - nor any other meaningful moments - necessary. For a film about myths and myth-making, it’s a shame MaXXXine couldn’t carve one of its own.
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