Directed By Andrew Dominik

Starring – Ana de Armas, Julianne Nicholson, Adrian Brody

The Plot – Based on the bestselling novel by Joyce Carol Oates, the film boldly reimagines the life of one of Hollywood’s most enduring icons, Marilyn Monroe. From her volatile childhood as Norma Jeane, through her rise to stardom and romantic entanglements, ‘Blonde’ blurs the lines of fact and fiction to explore the widening split between her public and private selves.

Rated NC-17 for some sexual content

BLONDE | From Writer and Director Andrew Dominik | Official Trailer | Netflix – YouTube

POSITIVES

Any preconceived notions about this being a conventional celebrity biopic should be checked at the door, with a fearlessly jaw-dropping script based off of the 2000 novel of the same name by Joyce Carol Oates. Because of such, “Blonde” takes a few liberties within the air of its source material that at the very least make this an unpredictable experience for even the most hardcore of Marilyn enthusiasts, and one whose script takes us through the cautionary tale that was her never-ending nightmare of a career in the public eye. At times, the film feels like a horror film that could’ve easily been deposited in the David Lynch filmography, complete with facial distortions, a haunting musical score from the great Nick Cave, and an occasionally colorless canvas metaphorically blurring the lines of fantasy and reality between the worlds of Hollywood and real life. In addition to this, the dream like photography of the movie’s spellbinding cinematography from Chayse Irvin is easily in my three favorites for the entire year, deviating between the angelic tinsel of Hollywood’s allure with the blood-curdling anxieties of the revealing truths in the price for fame behind the scenes and in front of the legions of obsessed media hounding her without remorse. Irvin’s depictions giftwrap a dream-like essence for the engagement that visually contradict the sentiments of the deeply psychological screenplay, with navigating over the shoulder long takes and a barrage of compelling angles constantly giving us something alluring, while further feeding into the nightmare that is Marilyn’s daily life. On the subject of her, Ana de Armas disappears seamlessly into the role, which in itself is an immensely difficult task for a Cuban-born actress. Ana emulates Marilyn remarkably with a cadence in commitment for vocal range and facial mannerisms that at least audibly trigger the likeness and accent of her deliveries, and when matched faithfully with the blue contacts, dental prosthetics and of course the signature blonde wig, completes the transformation perfectly in a way that conveyed to my mind that Marilyn Monroe was brought to life for one more film. But as to where Marilyn unfortunately never got to show off her range in typecast films, Ana doesn’t feel limited by the same constraints, eliciting the frailty and childlike innocence of the icon, but never in ways that feel like an impression for what she’s delivering. Instead, the subtleties and nuances of her performance give way to a genuine authenticity to her portrayal, cementing what is easily Ana’s best performance to date, and one that is proof of her capabilities as a gifted dramatic presence. Finally, much respect to the production values of the film, which perfectly recreate a barrage of Marilyn moments on and off screen with an incredible commitment to detail. In all honesty, there were moments when I legitimately didn’t know if a movie scene was being recreated or they included the real footage of Marilyn’s scenes to the portrayal. It’s simply that good, and more than deserving of the praise as any one of these vital elements, if even just for keeping it from ever feeling like the typical kinds of biopics of the week that used to premiere almost weekly on music television.

NEGATIVES

While “Blonde” is a transfixing watch that you can’t turn away from, it’s also simultaneously a car wreck in mid-motion that you’re witnessing take place as slow as humanly possible. This is mainly because of the overstuffed run time of nearly three hours, which is not only warranted in the depths and directions of the screenplay, but also drag the movie’s pacing across a minefield of slow spots in development that are just the starting point for the movie’s inescapably exhausting feeling by film’s end. The other side to that sentiment is in the appallingly exploitative screenplay, that while praised for originality, is equally shunned for the tastelessness of its persistence to depiction. In understanding Marilyn’s life story, one easily understands that she was used and abused. However, that doesn’t mean that we always need visual proof of the charade, in everything from oral sex, to rape, to the never-ending moments de Armas walks around naked, to everything else terrible that happens to Marilyn during the engagement. It makes it an uncomfortable and even manipulative engagement that I’m sure wouldn’t be easy for her family to watch, and one that for once I can wholeheartedly understand the reasoning for its NC-17 rating it became the first film to attain since 2011’s “Killer Joe”. While also on the subject of the script, the structure feels aimless and without a visible narrative throughout the duration of the film. Instead, it’s a cobble pot of moments whose only similarities are the abusive nature towards its protagonist, and one that grows tedious by around the one-hour mark of an aforementioned nearly three hour run time. The editing is clever enough to further echo this sentiment by bleeding each scene into the next with never-ending consequence, but it doesn’t make it any easier of an investment, with no moments of thorough levity, character development or even slight deviation to the concept of this self-wallowing disgrace. Last but not least, while I’ve managed to define meaning in nearly every element of the technical siesta as intended, the ever-changing aspect ratios in presentation still don’t attain clarity in the distance of my investment. For most of the movie, it’s a 1.85:1 boxed presentation, but other spontaneous moments it deviates between a 1.00:1, a 1.37:1, and even 2.39:1 involving Panavision. Not only have I never seen so many varying aspect ratios in one film, but never have I felt clueless as such with the degree of their change, sometimes in the very same frame with its abrupt distraction. For my money, they should’ve kept it at 1.85:1 to further emulate the timely essence of its setting, while also mirroring the consistent artistic direction for the time. Without one distinct direction, it keeps the attention on matters it wrongfully shouldn’t, serving as the biggest metaphor for the internal disconnect that permeated repeatedly throughout this bizarre engagement.

OVERALL
“Blonde” is an endurance test of unfiltered agony, and not the kind that inspires you or makes you any more knowledgeable because of a conscientious social issue that it’s thoroughly dissecting. Instead, the breathtaking sentiments of an alluring presentation and remarkably transformative turn from de Armas are suppressed under the weight of a ghoulishly exploitative screenplay that grows tedious a third of the way through, and for the legacy of a cultural icon, offers no justification for its existence, except the bewildering decision to continuously alienate its audience.

My Grade: 5/10 or D