Review by Daniel Reed
By: Daniel Reed
In-House Review - Aug 05 2013
Paul Schrader has spent most of his career observing sexual libertinism with a Puritanical mix of outrage, disgust and a hint of titillation. Bret Easton Ellis has spent his career crafting tales of handsome sociopaths and the women who fall for them...
Read More
Paul Schrader has spent most of his career observing sexual libertinism with a Puritanical mix of outrage, disgust and a hint of titillation. Bret Easton Ellis has spent his career crafting tales of handsome sociopaths and the women who fall for them easily. One derived his creative energy reacting against the sexual revolution of the '60s and '70s. The other made his mark commenting on the more generalized cultural bankruptcy of the Reagan '80s and its aftermath. In The Canyons, they collaborate to depict a 21st century filled with people who pathologically enslave themselves to their own fears and neuroses aided in no small part by technology (cell phones, in particular, play a huge role in the film). Though the targets of its commentary and criticism are distinctly of the now (circa 2013), the overall feel of the film hearkens back to Ellis' heyday: the 1980s.
Opening with one of the more awkward double dates in recent memory, the film begins with Christian (adult superstar James Deen ) and Tara ( Lindsay Lohan ) both staring at their phones, looking neither at each other, nor their interlocutors, Ryan ( Nolan Funk ) and Gina ( Amanda Brooks ). Ryan and Gina have set the dinner to thank Christian for using his influence to the producer of a horror film that he's financing to cast Ryan in the lead. At first, Christian refuses to acknowledge his role in the casting, before taking credit for it in the most obnoxious way possible. Tensions at the table rise, noticeably, when Christian begins regaling Gina (who is associate producing the horror film and until recently was Christian's assistant) and Ryan with stories of his and Tara's sexual adventures with other people (meetings that are facilitated via the internet). Tara is clearly embarrassed by this (which may have been Christian's intention all along) and a dangerous game of personal and sexual manipulation gets set into motion.
Tara, it turns out, has a history with Ryan. Before she hooked up with Christian (who "takes care of her") she lived a more hardscrabble, squalorous life as Ryan's girlfriend. They, since his casting in the film, have begun together again. None of this history is known to either Christian or Gina, but its revelation will have serious consequences. Christian, it seems, routinely has Tara followed and checks her cell phone for evidence of any infidelity. He doesn't mind her having sex with another man (and certainly not with another woman) so long as it's at his arrangement and he gets to watch. For Christian, control is everything and Tara's infidelity (though he is also unfaithful to her with his ex-girlfriend, a yoga instructor) is the ultimate betrayal.
Ellis' script certainly lays out the groundwork for a salacious erotic thriller, but Schrader's direction refuses to turn the temperature of the film up high enough. Always a cold director, Schrader takes a clinical approach to both the sex scenes and to the traditional thriller elements. One can't help but wonder what would have happened to the material in the hands of a director like William Friedkin or Paul Verhoeven who would have certainly amplified the pitch. It must be said, however, that Schrader's slow burn approach does allow for certain scenes to burrow into viewers' consciousness with their potent, retro-'80s style.
Often, the soundtrack feels borrowed from Cliff Martinez's '80s throwback electronica score from the Drive soundtrack, or even more directly from such '80s cult classics such as Friedkin's To Live and Die in L.A. A scene involving a tracking shot of Ryan through legendary L.A. record store Amoeba just feels from another time. It's also one of the best scenes in the film.
The incongruity between Ellis' script and Schrader's direction is not the only possible flaw in the film. The acting is inconsistent at best and often the dialogue that gets exchanged between characters feels like throwaway dialogue from a Mumblecore movie. Deen is adequate at portraying Christian as a sniveling, insignificant spoiled rich kid who would amount to nothing without his family's money, but, in later scenes when he is called on to ramp up his sinister side, he seems overmatched. Funk brings a consistent glowering intensity to his scenes, but they occasionally feel overplayed, especially given the generally laconic performances of his fellow actors. Lohan's performance is almost a microcosm of the film itself, ranging from somewhere between a confused deer in headlights vacantly reciting dialogue to being simply, outrageously brilliant. There are moments where her eyes stare out either at the camera or at her fellow actors like those of a once-feral cat, desperately quashing her wild instincts. It's a rare breed of actor that can encapsulate three levels of emotions simultaneously. Lohan proves she's still capable of performing at that level.
Schrader and Ellis are clearly trying to make a statement on the relationship between sex, power and control. In their universe, men want to control women more than anything. Sex is merely one way to accomplish this goal. All of their theories about sex, power and control crystallize in the orgy scene that serves as both the film's dramatic climax (though more conventional thriller elements are still to follow) and artistic high point. Christian, for whom control is everything, is put on the defensive. Immediately before their guests arrive, Tara confronts him with a vicious and dangerous rumor she's heard about him. He is to rebut her accusations and, thus, temporarily give up a bit of his power to her. This gives her enough leverage to take control of the sex scene that is to follow. Rather than perform for his gaze with another woman, she him to perform for her gaze with another man. The tension and electricity in this scene are so potent that they may be enough to make up for whatever flaws the film has leading up to it and coming after it. Though Deen often seems overmatched by the material (particularly later in the film), it becomes clear in this scene why Schrader and Ellis chose him for the part: His experience as an adult performer gives him the comfort level to express a range of emotions within the trappings of nudity and sexual hedonism.
All of this is far from perfect, but it's also far from an out-and-out train wreck. With its inconsistencies and a few questionable plot elements (and a "twist" ending which works better as a thesis statement than an actual plot development), the parts are certainly greater than the whole in The Canyons, but those parts bristle with such style, such cinematic audacity that the film, however flawed, is destined to live on in moviegoers' minds and hearts much longer than less flawed, less ambitious counterparts. It's either a highly flawed masterpiece, or a hot mess with moments of sublime brilliance. Either way, it's a potent cinematic experience that commands multiple viewings.
Review by Daniel Reed
By: Daniel Reed
In-House Review - Aug 05 2013
Paul Schrader has spent most of his career observing sexual libertinism with a Puritanical mix of outrage, disgust and a hint of titillation. Bret Easton Ellis has spent his career crafting tales of handsome sociopaths and the women who fall for them...
Read More
Paul Schrader has spent most of his career observing sexual libertinism with a Puritanical mix of outrage, disgust and a hint of titillation. Bret Easton Ellis has spent his career crafting tales of handsome sociopaths and the women who fall for them easily. One derived his creative energy reacting against the sexual revolution of the '60s and '70s. The other made his mark commenting on the more generalized cultural bankruptcy of the Reagan '80s and its aftermath. In The Canyons, they collaborate to depict a 21st century filled with people who pathologically enslave themselves to their own fears and neuroses aided in no small part by technology (cell phones, in particular, play a huge role in the film). Though the targets of its commentary and criticism are distinctly of the now (circa 2013), the overall feel of the film hearkens back to Ellis' heyday: the 1980s.
Opening with one of the more awkward double dates in recent memory, the film begins with Christian (adult superstar James Deen ) and Tara ( Lindsay Lohan ) both staring at their phones, looking neither at each other, nor their interlocutors, Ryan ( Nolan Funk ) and Gina ( Amanda Brooks ). Ryan and Gina have set the dinner to thank Christian for using his influence to the producer of a horror film that he's financing to cast Ryan in the lead. At first, Christian refuses to acknowledge his role in the casting, before taking credit for it in the most obnoxious way possible. Tensions at the table rise, noticeably, when Christian begins regaling Gina (who is associate producing the horror film and until recently was Christian's assistant) and Ryan with stories of his and Tara's sexual adventures with other people (meetings that are facilitated via the internet). Tara is clearly embarrassed by this (which may have been Christian's intention all along) and a dangerous game of personal and sexual manipulation gets set into motion.
Tara, it turns out, has a history with Ryan. Before she hooked up with Christian (who "takes care of her") she lived a more hardscrabble, squalorous life as Ryan's girlfriend. They, since his casting in the film, have begun together again. None of this history is known to either Christian or Gina, but its revelation will have serious consequences. Christian, it seems, routinely has Tara followed and checks her cell phone for evidence of any infidelity. He doesn't mind her having sex with another man (and certainly not with another woman) so long as it's at his arrangement and he gets to watch. For Christian, control is everything and Tara's infidelity (though he is also unfaithful to her with his ex-girlfriend, a yoga instructor) is the ultimate betrayal.
Ellis' script certainly lays out the groundwork for a salacious erotic thriller, but Schrader's direction refuses to turn the temperature of the film up high enough. Always a cold director, Schrader takes a clinical approach to both the sex scenes and to the traditional thriller elements. One can't help but wonder what would have happened to the material in the hands of a director like William Friedkin or Paul Verhoeven who would have certainly amplified the pitch. It must be said, however, that Schrader's slow burn approach does allow for certain scenes to burrow into viewers' consciousness with their potent, retro-'80s style.
Often, the soundtrack feels borrowed from Cliff Martinez's '80s throwback electronica score from the Drive soundtrack, or even more directly from such '80s cult classics such as Friedkin's To Live and Die in L.A. A scene involving a tracking shot of Ryan through legendary L.A. record store Amoeba just feels from another time. It's also one of the best scenes in the film.
The incongruity between Ellis' script and Schrader's direction is not the only possible flaw in the film. The acting is inconsistent at best and often the dialogue that gets exchanged between characters feels like throwaway dialogue from a Mumblecore movie. Deen is adequate at portraying Christian as a sniveling, insignificant spoiled rich kid who would amount to nothing without his family's money, but, in later scenes when he is called on to ramp up his sinister side, he seems overmatched. Funk brings a consistent glowering intensity to his scenes, but they occasionally feel overplayed, especially given the generally laconic performances of his fellow actors. Lohan's performance is almost a microcosm of the film itself, ranging from somewhere between a confused deer in headlights vacantly reciting dialogue to being simply, outrageously brilliant. There are moments where her eyes stare out either at the camera or at her fellow actors like those of a once-feral cat, desperately quashing her wild instincts. It's a rare breed of actor that can encapsulate three levels of emotions simultaneously. Lohan proves she's still capable of performing at that level.
Schrader and Ellis are clearly trying to make a statement on the relationship between sex, power and control. In their universe, men want to control women more than anything. Sex is merely one way to accomplish this goal. All of their theories about sex, power and control crystallize in the orgy scene that serves as both the film's dramatic climax (though more conventional thriller elements are still to follow) and artistic high point. Christian, for whom control is everything, is put on the defensive. Immediately before their guests arrive, Tara confronts him with a vicious and dangerous rumor she's heard about him. He is to rebut her accusations and, thus, temporarily give up a bit of his power to her. This gives her enough leverage to take control of the sex scene that is to follow. Rather than perform for his gaze with another woman, she him to perform for her gaze with another man. The tension and electricity in this scene are so potent that they may be enough to make up for whatever flaws the film has leading up to it and coming after it. Though Deen often seems overmatched by the material (particularly later in the film), it becomes clear in this scene why Schrader and Ellis chose him for the part: His experience as an adult performer gives him the comfort level to express a range of emotions within the trappings of nudity and sexual hedonism.
All of this is far from perfect, but it's also far from an out-and-out train wreck. With its inconsistencies and a few questionable plot elements (and a "twist" ending which works better as a thesis statement than an actual plot development), the parts are certainly greater than the whole in The Canyons, but those parts bristle with such style, such cinematic audacity that the film, however flawed, is destined to live on in moviegoers' minds and hearts much longer than less flawed, less ambitious counterparts. It's either a highly flawed masterpiece, or a hot mess with moments of sublime brilliance. Either way, it's a potent cinematic experience that commands multiple viewings.