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Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Review: "Under the Silver Lake" is a Flawed Masterpiece

Scene from Under the Silver Lake
The existence of director David Robert Mitchell's follow-up to It Follows has a history just as confounding as the plot. Under the Silver Lake is a film that played at Cannes, and had a winter release planned stateside. It was nothing too out of the ordinary until many criticized the plot into an editing frenzy that only saw it released in Europe (by the time it was on home video, it was still months away from the U.S. release). For a follow-up to a film that is regarded as premiere horror of the decade, Mitchell's post-modernist take on Millennials and neo-noir being dumped on V.O.D. platforms feels both fitting and disappointing. It was always going to be a confounding sell, but what's keeping it from a middling box office that legitimizes its inevitable cult status? The film may be all but gone from the public radar, but hopefully, its second act (its release) is just as true to the film and slowly unwinds into something bigger and crazier. For all of its flaws and wound-up insanity, Under the Silver Lake is one of the most delightful, deranged, hilarious odes to Los Angeles absurdism since Inherent Vice. Its answers may disappoint you, but that's kind of the point. It's a film lacking meaning as it finds it, and that's part of its frustrating charm.


Sam (Andrew Garfield) could be read as a more incompetent take on Phillip Marlowe, circa The Long Goodbye. With an eviction notice hanging over the entire film, he wanders around searching for answers to his problems. He tries to track down "The Dog Killer" who has been planting clues in Silver Lake, CA. He tries to solve an abduction case. He tries to do so much while winding up in even stranger situations. He suffers from the ennui of thinking too hard in between passionless sex and calls from his mother above great TCM movies. It's a detective story for the Riverdale generation, where everything has a dark and brooding texture to the mundane, and Sam's life is pretty boring. He wanders around aimlessly in search of a truth that is ultimately unsatisfying, or not even there. Much like The Big Sleep, those wanting the literal reading of this film will need a good copy editor to make sense of it all. 

The story is reminiscent of Thomas Pynchon's classic absurdist tale "The Crying of Lot 49," which also follows someone attracted to clues that may mean nothing. In keeping with the tradition of neo-noir, it's all a bit hazy and requires a lot of abstract elements. Due to Sam's disregard for women, he often blurs the lines between the dog murder cases with hearing women talk to him through barks. As Disasterpeace's excellent score plays like a haunting drift through a pool, he tries to see out of his own head but only finds the eccentric side of Southern California. There's a prominent feature of a rock band called Jesus and the Brides of Dracula. As one can guess, he plays the record backward for clues. He does everything to think that this mission has a purpose. Meanwhile, he is on the verge of being evicted from his apartment and only getting by on the goodwill he promises.

It's to Garfield's credit that he plays the role with nervous confidence. There are countless scenes that are the physical embodiment of following string across a crime board. To see Sam point everything out only highlights how absurd it all is and how it all feels inevitably hopeless. Every new clue comes from someplace even more convoluted than the last, and yet the film humors him enough to make his crackpot theories pay off. They're on a path that strays from the truth, and Sam is just as confused. However, he's also too hopeless to see the bigger picture, instead of trying to enjoy his youthful desire to solve a case that lacks any logic. The film treats him not as an altruistic hero, but a nutjob who may be reminiscent of the modern cinephile; desperate to find deeper meaning in the most mundane of pop culture. For instance, does Jesus and the Brides of Dracula hint at the film being about religion and cults? Maybe, though it also laughs at those who take it all too seriously. To paraphrase "meaning is in the eye of the beholder." Because Sam finds it in juvenile exploits like video games and cinema, it only shows a stunted growth perfectly complimented by the absurd outcomes he finds.

The film is designed to be confusing and winding. Those expecting a conventional narrative will be greatly disappointed in what happens. Instead of looking at the mystery, look towards Sam in this wonderful, bizarre world where symbolism is everywhere and sometimes it's just empty. Why would audiences care about Sam solving the case when his competence is almost immediately questioned? The vision of Silver Lake is a fascinating one full of eclectic characters that populate cinematic screenings in cemeteries and have chess matches at lavish pool parties. It's all absurd, and Mitchell's love of this world overshadows the truth that he's trying to discuss. He's very critical of Sam and nerd culture. The beauty of this is that he never quite dives into scathing insults. Instead, he just pushes the boundaries of Southern California cinema in ways that are exciting. Anyone wanting a film that follows its own path through underground tunnels and bizarre conspiracy theory bunkers will get plenty out of the film. There are even some clever in-jokes regarding Garfield's career scattered throughout. The only difference is that they all tie into his stunted growth as a character and the hilarious idea that he'd think that he could solve this mystery with his scatterbrained approach.

Under the Silver Lake is a misleading film full of methodical imagery. Mitchell has added his name to the pantheon of brilliant artists who seem to exist solely to troll audiences. With his post-modern approach to modern ennui, he has given a film that rewards the pause button by making it a joke unto itself. Life is too futile to look for clues, especially if they lead to such absurd paths. Still, it's something fun that reflects those willing to tread's youthful spirit. Garfield also deserves to make more charismatic and humorous movies like this, if just to remind audiences of his potential. There's so much to love about this film, even if it will isolate those who want easy answers. The film is destined to excite those who feel in on the joke and make egotists feel smart about the answers they think they find. Hopefully, the latter won't ruin the movie, because it's not often that something this intricate manages to both be really smart and really dumb. Mitchell has created a masterpiece of confounding action. It's only funnier that it exists in a way that's just as frustrating.

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