I watched The Neon Demon because Keanu Reeves was in it. When I later found out that Nicholas Winding Refn directed The Neon Demon, and that he also directed Drive, which I enjoyed, it was a bonus, but not a requirement. Otherwise I probably would not have seen The Neon Demon.
The Neon Demon is about a Georgia sixteen-year old girl with model aspirations who gains all kinds of attention in her journey to achieve success in LA. The Neon Demon is essentially a retelling of the Greek myth of Narcissus. If you were alive during the 80s and are aware of the feminist critique of fashion magazines that emerged during that era, you will definitely see the ending coming albeit NOT the true identity of the villain.
The Neon Demon has a deliberate pace, which I did not enjoy. I think that the editing needed to be more ruthless. While The Neon Demon is beautifully shot, the narrative tends to be overindulgent and ponderous even for a surreal film. I loved the music, which is also very 80s synth pop. This welcome retro impulse started with movies like The Guest and The Machine.
I watched The Neon Demon immediately after I finished my (third) viewing of Cell, which was accidentally a clever pairing since both films deal with the same themes.
S
P
O
I
L
E
R
S
Both Cell and The Neon Demon tackle the downside and vulnerability of achieving your dreams alone and how the journey to success can lead to oblivion. Both Cell and The Neon Demon suggest that there are points in a person’s life when he or she can become vulnerable to negative external influence. Jesse is unaware that she is being groomed to either be a sacrifice or a participant in a pagan blood sacrifice even though the opening scenes literally show her bleeding on a couch in a contorted pose. Jesse exists in two worlds.
The first is the world of prosaic exploitation or metaphoric modern child sacrifice in which we exploit young girls for money and sex. Men mainly run this world. Some are psychologically harmful by rooting a sense of superiority and self-worth in something as ephemeral as physical beauty. Other men are physically harmful, either potentially or literally. The motel manager and his henchman, Mitch, are financially and sexually exploiting teenage runaway girls. Jesse’s boyfriend, Dean, is a photographer who may be the nicest and most earnest man of all, but he is a grown man trying to have a relationship with a child and establish a career off of her beauty. The most honest though repulsive man may be the motel manager.
The second is an ancient, pagan world of literal human sacrifice, hostile cannibalism and blood bath. Women dominate this world and exploit the assumptions of the first world to appear benign and like safe harbors, but are actually more dangerous predators. The ruler of this world is Ruby, who pretends to be a young woman who needs multiple jobs as a makeup artist and befriends Jesse, but effortlessly has access to the wealth and people that she exploits. Ruby is either Elizabeth Bathory or a Bathory type figure, more witch than vampire, who preys on young, virgin girls in either her moon ritual sacrifice to maintain her youth or for sex and as new coven recruits who seek beauty and success and ultimately consume Jesse to gain her power. Is she a worshipper of the goddess Diana or even Diana herself? The moon imagery is not subtle, and Ruby is skilled at hunting and trapping her prey.
Jesse is vulnerable in both worlds, but the second one alters her sense of perception and hypnotizes her into a constant waking dreamlike state as soon as she meets Ruby. Ruby strokes Jesse as she wipes away the fake blood from the photo shoot and leads her to a nightclub with strobe lights and contortionist bondage in which Jesse first sees the weird, blue triangle panel. The soothing motions and lights are part of the ritual cult. Ruby constantly grooms Jesse by applying makeup, provides her with beautiful clothes, makes her (understandably) wary of possibly predatory men and offers her a safe harbor against them. I would argue that the weird feline creature in her motel room is Ruby, and The Neon Demon reminded me of Henri Rousseau’s The Sleeping Gypsy. When Jesse is the lead model and sees the blue triangle panel again, this time she sees an image of herself inside of it and makes out with herself. Jesse is unaware that she has been trapped.
Like in Cell, Jesse is trapped in a dreamlike state and a moment of super ego, like Narcissus drowning in an image of himself. She doesn’t see the obvious signs that she is in danger. Are you food or sex? Because Jesse is in love with herself, the answer is clear. Another dreamlike state pushes her to seek sanctuary with Ruby. Jesse rejects all links to the new world only to awaken and die in an empty pool. Literal and metaphoric dreams make Jesse vulnerable to oblivion, and in her desire for fame, no one will remember or miss her. She is just another forgotten and broken child sacrifice consumed by others.
The Neon Demon is actually a horror film albeit with self-conscious pretensions of being an art house film with little sense of humor. The Neon Demon is The Wicker Man meets Wir Sind Die Nacht with Dario Argento undertones. Because I was already in the mental frame of mind to be suspicious of everything and am aware of the critique of using violence against women in the media, I took many statements that most viewers may dismiss as euphemisms literally, which was the correct reading of the situation.
Because I viewed The Neon Demon as a horror film, I kept thinking, “Stop using Kleenex and take a shower! Don’t go in that bathroom outnumbered with those women! Girl, don’t go in the bathroom with that girl! She doesn’t like you. And now she is sucking your blood! See! Girl, go to the hospital. You still have Obamacare! Girl, don’t kiss yourself in the mirror! Haven’t you ever heard of Narcissus!” It was obvious to me that Jesse was in danger and should get the hell out. The Neon Demon would have been cutting edge if it was released decades ago, but ultimately it did nothing for me because it felt predictable albeit still shocking.