Strange Darling is a genuinely clever movie. It’s also a movie very impressed with its own cleverness, in a manner that evokes the somewhat obnoxious vibes of Quentin Tarantino where it is very concerned with the audience being impressed by it. At the same time, it does impress, if not quite as much as it wants to, but enough still. Part of this is due to its structure that writer-director JT Mollner presents non-linearly, so as to allow for a sense of mystery and constantly reshaping contexts. But it also comes out of the film’s looks and technical aesthetics that are unusually rich and vivid. It’s quite a stunningly colourful for how grisly it can get.
Mollner begins the movie -after a Texas Chainsaw Massacre-style opening text detailing the manhunt for a prolific serial killer from Colorado to Oregon, that like in that movie appears not to be real- he begins where his idea began, with the image of a woman running in slow-motion, injured and bleeding, from a man pursuing her with a gun. Realizing the cliché of the Final Girl, he wanted to expand on it. And so in this, we’re introduced to the nameless Lady (Willa Fitzgerald) running for her life from an aggressive man called the Demon (Kyle Gallner), in the third chapter of a six chapter narrative detailing the progression of a one-night stand through to a vicious cat-and-mouse game through rural Oregon. Each chapter is played out of order, save for the last, certain details obscured so the audience can be led by their assumptions as to the larger story -assumptions that Mollner ultimately takes great delight in re-contextualizing and subverting.
And it makes for a strong storytelling conceit, with early appearing chapters showing the results of beats that haven’t been set up yet. As the Demon hunts the Lady through an isolated home he steps over a dead body bleeding out. Based on the evidence of the scene we can guess what happened, but Mollner sets little hints that our perception may not be trustworthy. When we meet the Lady running for her life she is blonde, but when we see her in the first chapter meeting the Demon for their arranged tryst she has red hair. And it’s in this chapter too that Mollner first pulls the rug out on our expectations, revealing the nature of a particular interaction to be entirely different than it appears, priming the audience to be ready for several twists in the disordered progression of the story ahead. There does come a point where the device is used just a little too frequently that you start to expect the subversions -especially the biggest one, which isn’t as unique as Mollner thinks; but the calculated nature of the reveals is quite thrilling -the way that each chapter hints just enough while still being sufficient on its own terms where it fits in the more conventional narrative.
What also keeps the energy up though is the film’s visual language, bolstered by its crisp 35 mm film stock and its grounded yet saturated imagery that makes a movie set in the modern day look and feel like a grindhouse horror film from the 70s. And one of the most interesting facts about this movie, is not only that it is shot on 35 mm, but that its cinematographer is -of all people- actor Giovanni Ribisi. Plenty of actors have made the leap to director, writer, producer -but it is rare to hear of one switching gears to so technical a discipline as cinematography. What’s even more astounding is he’s actually quite good. His shooting is dynamic and perfectly attuned for the genre, the camera is used really effectively as a storytelling device to conceal information and heighten suspense -such as when it slowly follows the Demon through the house shooting at boxes and crates in various rooms, the audience knowing the Lady is hiding in one of them. There’s the very Reservoir Dogs-like illustration of one violent moment (“Love Hurts” rather than “Stuck in the Middle with You” being the ironic song of choice), as well as some very smart sustained takes that open up the geography and build a sense of urgent tension. Ribisi and Mollner accentuate mood through vivid lighting choices and an emphasis on stark colours, especially in the chronologically early chapters, that make the movie almost lush in contrast to its subject matter. And the way this device is used in the long final shot is incredibly visually and thematically compelling. It’s some stunning work.
Fitzgerald does a lot to carry the movie as well, with a tough, versatile performance that matches the unpredictability of the narrative. There are some very curious aspects of her personality that come up particularly in the first chapter that she plays with a provocative charm. Gallner is good as well, displaying a fascinating mixture of deep terror and bashful innocence as his role in the story too is shaped in unconventional ways. Both characters are mystifying, and even with a flurry of reveals and misdirects as the movie goes along, they maintain a compelling ambiguity up to their very last scenes. Barbara Hershey and Ed Begley Jr. also appear, as the isolated elderly hippie couple whose home becomes a major scene of violence.
Mollner establishes himself here as a director of some talent, though his script isn’t as sharp as its structure. His tack for misdirect does lose some lustre eventually, and the final scenes don’t much succeed in the suspense they try to build based on the numbness by then of the story’s body count. It’s a good thing the movie is short, at ninety-six minutes, because it wouldn’t be able to sustain itself at all much longer -certainly not at the momentum it tries to maintain. And throughout the film, it’s worth noting the dialogue feels off -the communication between both parties is rather unnatural and it doesn’t register as a conscious choice. There are definitely bits of socio-political ephemera too that feels written by someone who spends too much time online and perhaps in less reputable circles. A couple times sexism is invoked in a manner that suggests you’re not meant to take it seriously, and while I won’t say its intended as an edgy statement it comes off as weak writing nonetheless.
But Strange Darling does earn some of its too-cool ego, in large part due to that nifty presentation that knows how to utilize its device for real engagement and suspense, and for the vibrant and considered look of the film -Ribisi knows what he’s doing, he should be cinematographer on more movies. It’s hard to make this kind of a crime thriller feel unique, but Strange Darling succeeds at that while also being a decent pulpy throwback.
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