The sadness and pain behind the icon
The Netflix movie has been a quick bang, but a very rambunctious one. During the five days that the conversation lasted, it became one of the most reviled and mangled films of the last year. It was almost a matter of morality whether you liked 'Blonde' or not. But even terms like or dislike are really simple for what the movie is trying to do.
Adapting the dark alleys of the homonymous novel by Joyce Carol Oates, who elaborates a fictionalized version of Marilyn Monroe to capture the psychological torn of living in a dark world surrounded by despicable men. An anti-fairy tale with the most powerful icon of American cinema in the center, with events of his life reinterpreted to investigate what it means to be an object of the constant gaze and also a precious asset to be exploited, economically.
Dominik seeks to reflect those same feelings, to portray that entire industry and those systems that cannibalized Norma Jean, and perhaps there she would deserve recognition in a category of the best-adapted screenplay at the Oscars (especially in a weak year in that category). He also does it from the image, taking emblematic moments of Marilyn's life that we have seen on screen or in photographs and recreating them almost perfectly. But it is a recreation with intention, giving a completely new meaning to the images to serve the horror story that the protagonist lives.
Probably there is the original sin that many do not forgive Dominik. In an era where the redefinition of icons is done to tell stories of resilience and triumph in the face of adversity (the recent example of Pamela Anderson is a good example), the New Zealander decides to explore the dark side behind the idol. All the pain and despair of someone who, to always be surrounded and watched, was truly alone.
It is, of course, understandable that this exploration can be seen as very hard-to-see exploitation. 'Blonde' is not an easy experience, and you have to understand that you don't want to be exposed to three hours of horrors without much room to run, just as you don't have to face a gory horror movie if you pass out with the blood. The biggest problem it has is being a Netflix movie, which usually entails massive exposure that is not designed for films of such an artistic nature and so little raised for quick consumption.
Ana de Armas and much more
It is a bit disconcerting, yes, the refusal to interpret the images and the story, trying to distort the intentions of the work. Or even try to extract highlights from their context. The (deserved) nomination for Ana de Armas for the role, the only element that seemed to make everyone agree (and perhaps the exquisite photography of Chayse Irvin), has tried to put itself on a pedestal in the manner of a martyr. She's great "despite" being in the film, she has preserved inauthenticity away from Dominik's villainous hands, rather than doing a job in keeping with the intent of the film.
It is perhaps the most representative of a discussion that has refused to discuss nuances, to read the text carefully and interpret it. The technical qualities are obvious, from the setting duly recreated and remodeled to highlight the sensation of a nightmare to the essential music by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis (who save one of the most interesting decisions in the film, evoking the song 'Bright Horses' by Cave and his group, a song about loss and about symbols that are not what they are).
All well-spun in a vision that, while intense and stubborn in its gloomy surreal tendencies, makes for one of the most interesting films to dissect in this latest season. A sad horror story that may have to wait to be a cult work, following a fate similar to what Lynch had to live with 'Fire Walk with Me' (although his expectations were very different), with which 'Blonde' they twin in a very interesting way.
