The Neon Demon

Only God Forgives was a watershed moment in Nicolas Winding Refn’s career. The indulgent, slow cinema-addled, nearly universally polarizing ode to revenge and bruised masculinity furthered Refn’s reputation as a provocateur—but it also cemented his relationship to moral authority.
For all of Refn’s concessions to an underbelly of society whether through vicious misogynists or intoxicating murals of bloodshed, he’s at heart a centrist, believing foremost in a cosmic balance.
Impenetrable (and ineffable) forces propel Refn’s films whether it’s elemental criminals or symbolic angels of death, and Refn’s latest, The Neon Demon, follows in this same numbing devotion to the power of cinema’s unknown.
In The Neon Demon, 16-year-old Jesse (Elle Fanning) isn’t just groomed to be the next “It” Girl in the fashion world—she was born that way. But she’s surrounded by people who suck on young blood: predatory photographers (Desmond Harrington), megalomaniacal fashion designers (Alessandro Nivola) and a pair of fading models (Abbey Lee, Bella Heathcoate), whose ambitions are only matched by their bloodlust.
The film makes few illusions about its intentions, gleefully foreshadowing its inclinations toward future horror with winking lines about “redrum lipstick” and extended monologues about body modification.
As Jesse, Fanning is perfectly cast, tilting her cherubic presence just enough to come off arrogant rather than innocent, and playing up her innocuous presence into something existential. And coming off her role in last year’s Mad Max: Fury Road, Abbey Lee is diabolical as Sarah, a take-no-prisoners model who has little warmth for the next “It” Girl, let alone her best friends.
Innocence has replaced masculinity as Refn’s muse, but The Neon Demon nonetheless feels wholly divided between its first half of corrupted innocence, and its Grand Guignol second half that plays like last year’s The Duke of Burgundy without the ballast of the erotic or the romantic.