Thursday, September 28, 2017


Soundscape like amplified tones of a finger on the rim of a wineglass.

Nature as a possessor: Kristen Dunst smokes up and sleepwalks through the dreamy ins and outs of her existence in the wake of her mother's death.

Somewhere in the redwoods--trunks like the feet of dinosaurs

Trees as living bodies. Hands caressing bark. Hands caressing wood paneled walls.

Tightly tying a ribbon on a nightie.

Blond-lit photography. Elements of trees: wooden dresser, papers to flame, leaf-adorned curtains.

K.K. Barrett did the tactile art direction. The artist behind the visionary sets of Her.

Whenever men appear, the dream world is broken with less interesting imagery and sonic volume--usually fuzzed-out indie rock strumming around them, their hair and beards the color of wood.

Songs like "Dream Baby Dream" by Suicide.

There's the dissonance of synthetics versus natural--plastic baggies--a plant shaped neon light, the automatic brushes in a car wash.

A sleek and stark dispensary in what used to be a flower shop.

Earth drugs as a possessor.

Campfire-lit house party. Tapping at goldfish in an aquarium. Lit match blowout.

Misty, rain-glazed car windows.

The film is directed by Kate and Laura Mulleavy, the sisters who founded Rodarte. Their filmmaking is visually appealing. The film throbs.

Their sartorial choices for Dunst: soft, muted, white mohair (?) sweater, waffle thermal shirt. Black bra and jeans.

A house mostly cut off from the accouterments of popular culture.

A mustard princess phone. Eggs gone bad in the fridge. Cake adorned with flitting moths.

Prisms through trees. Prisms through a crystal vase.

Some of the dispensary customers begin to die.

Dunst is like a bird in a cage that perches itself at the end of a toothbrush. Like the goldfish behind the aquarium glass she taps upon.

Sudden curdling of strings during levitation.

Faces and bodies cut in mirrors like a forest of trees.

Dried flower overlays.

Berry-stained lips.

Blood splattery mist of wood shavings flying at the chainsaw's cut.

The final dress is a wisp of a silvered sheath.

The film is for ones who like to be left under a spell. ***

-Jeffery Berg

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