MILD SPOILER WARNING
We've seen plenty of movies about period era rockstars before, but I truly cannot recall one as intimate as Her Smell, the newest directorial effort from Alex Ross Perry. My first foray into his directorial works goes for small-scale character interactions where most films of this ilk opt for a conventional rags-to-riches story packed with cheeky references to famous songs. Split into five different periods of the life of 1990s singer Becky Something (Elisabeth Moss) that are comprised primarily of conversations between characters (save for one that shifts the setting to Becky's home), this more personal approach to telling her story allow the viewer to truly gets to know what a whirlwind of chaos this performer is as well as understand the more vulnerable human side of Becky Something.
There is on-screen origin story given for how Becky Something and the other two members of the band Something She, Marielle (Agyness Deyn) and Ali (Gayle Rankin). The only glimpse of a more upbeat past comes in brief spurts of home video footage that play in between the five segments. Once the story kicks off proper in the 1990s, the band is a huge deal but not as big as the problems Becky causes for everyone around her behind-the-scenes as she becomes obsessed with her own spiritual practices and drug use. Her bandmates and ex-husband Danny (Dan Stevens) all try to corral her in, but it's no use, Becky is on her own planet, it seems like there's truly no way to bring her back down to Earth.
As we move on from the first segment to the remaining four segments, the band Something She splits apart and Becky takes in the band Akergirls to be her new support team. Each of the members of Akergirls looks up to her and thinks of the idea of working with a legend like Becky Something to be a dream come true, but by the time the third segment gets underway, they too have become disillusioned by Becky's erratic behavior. In these three segments, set either backstage or in a recording studio, Alex Ross Perry's direction opts heavily for close-up shots that place the viewer directly into the terse interactions between characters. None of these characters can escape Becky Something and the intentionally claustrophobic camerawork ensures that neither can the viewer.
The camerawork certainly does its job and then some, I constantly felt an appropriate chilling sense that any kind of destructive mayhem was possible in these sequences, especially in the third one when Becky Something abruptly vanishes for a prolonged period of time. As Jaws and Alien proved so long ago, what you can imagine is typically scarier than what you see and the film, having effectively established what Becky is capable of when she's on-screen, generates supremely nerve-wracking tension out of keeping her off-screen in this third segment and leaving the viewer to the task of contemplating where Becky Something could possibly be.
Yet, the character of Becky Something is good for more than just on-screen or prospective mayhem and the way Her Smell creates such a distinctly human creation out of this character is one of its most sterling accomplishments. Those pieces of home video scattered throughout the movie briefly allow a glimpse into another side of this human being and both the script and Elisabeth Moss' depiction of her out-of-control behavior always feel rooted in realism, neither part of Her Smell feel like they're exploiting her conduct stemming from her addiction for cheap laughs at the expense of the character. Moss is especially exemplary at depicting this part of the character, her speaking style alone, which ricochets from 1990s pop culture references to attempts at pearls of wisdom to lashing out at anyone in close proximity to her, feels brutally raw in its realism yet feels appropriately singular to this character (everyone grappling with addiction does so differently, after all).
The range of both lead actor Moss and writer/director Perry is especially vividly apparent in the fourth segment of Her Smell, which allows for a tonal shift to a more quiet type of storytelling Becky Something is no longer performing as she instead tries to stay sober and has become a shut-in. Here in this segment, Perry's filmmaking suddenly opens up the frame, all of those close-ups have now given away to wide-angle shots that carry on for an extended period of time. Previously, the frame was cramped to reinforce the sense of tension between Becky and the people around here, but now there's far more room as Becky opens herself up to the people around her and confronts her own issues of not truly knowing who her personality is.
It's a part of the role Moss realizes with equal levels of success as the more troubled parts of Becky Something. Whereas the latter aspect of the role called for subtlety to be thrown to the wind, now Moss captures Becky's struggle to make it through one day at a time in subdued terms that both evoke reality beautifully and tug on your heartstrings, particularly in a poignant scene where Becky sings a song for her young daughter. This scene (along with a surprisingly heartwarming ending) may be the best scene in Her Smell and serves as a clear sign of just how well it captures every angle of a troubled character like Becky Something. A rockstar (even a fictional one!) like no other deserves an equally unique movie and that's just what Becky Something gets with Her Smell, a film that's equal parts gripping in its intensity and also moving in its empathetic portrait of all the struggles Becky Something goes through.
We've seen plenty of movies about period era rockstars before, but I truly cannot recall one as intimate as Her Smell, the newest directorial effort from Alex Ross Perry. My first foray into his directorial works goes for small-scale character interactions where most films of this ilk opt for a conventional rags-to-riches story packed with cheeky references to famous songs. Split into five different periods of the life of 1990s singer Becky Something (Elisabeth Moss) that are comprised primarily of conversations between characters (save for one that shifts the setting to Becky's home), this more personal approach to telling her story allow the viewer to truly gets to know what a whirlwind of chaos this performer is as well as understand the more vulnerable human side of Becky Something.
There is on-screen origin story given for how Becky Something and the other two members of the band Something She, Marielle (Agyness Deyn) and Ali (Gayle Rankin). The only glimpse of a more upbeat past comes in brief spurts of home video footage that play in between the five segments. Once the story kicks off proper in the 1990s, the band is a huge deal but not as big as the problems Becky causes for everyone around her behind-the-scenes as she becomes obsessed with her own spiritual practices and drug use. Her bandmates and ex-husband Danny (Dan Stevens) all try to corral her in, but it's no use, Becky is on her own planet, it seems like there's truly no way to bring her back down to Earth.
As we move on from the first segment to the remaining four segments, the band Something She splits apart and Becky takes in the band Akergirls to be her new support team. Each of the members of Akergirls looks up to her and thinks of the idea of working with a legend like Becky Something to be a dream come true, but by the time the third segment gets underway, they too have become disillusioned by Becky's erratic behavior. In these three segments, set either backstage or in a recording studio, Alex Ross Perry's direction opts heavily for close-up shots that place the viewer directly into the terse interactions between characters. None of these characters can escape Becky Something and the intentionally claustrophobic camerawork ensures that neither can the viewer.
The camerawork certainly does its job and then some, I constantly felt an appropriate chilling sense that any kind of destructive mayhem was possible in these sequences, especially in the third one when Becky Something abruptly vanishes for a prolonged period of time. As Jaws and Alien proved so long ago, what you can imagine is typically scarier than what you see and the film, having effectively established what Becky is capable of when she's on-screen, generates supremely nerve-wracking tension out of keeping her off-screen in this third segment and leaving the viewer to the task of contemplating where Becky Something could possibly be.
Yet, the character of Becky Something is good for more than just on-screen or prospective mayhem and the way Her Smell creates such a distinctly human creation out of this character is one of its most sterling accomplishments. Those pieces of home video scattered throughout the movie briefly allow a glimpse into another side of this human being and both the script and Elisabeth Moss' depiction of her out-of-control behavior always feel rooted in realism, neither part of Her Smell feel like they're exploiting her conduct stemming from her addiction for cheap laughs at the expense of the character. Moss is especially exemplary at depicting this part of the character, her speaking style alone, which ricochets from 1990s pop culture references to attempts at pearls of wisdom to lashing out at anyone in close proximity to her, feels brutally raw in its realism yet feels appropriately singular to this character (everyone grappling with addiction does so differently, after all).
The range of both lead actor Moss and writer/director Perry is especially vividly apparent in the fourth segment of Her Smell, which allows for a tonal shift to a more quiet type of storytelling Becky Something is no longer performing as she instead tries to stay sober and has become a shut-in. Here in this segment, Perry's filmmaking suddenly opens up the frame, all of those close-ups have now given away to wide-angle shots that carry on for an extended period of time. Previously, the frame was cramped to reinforce the sense of tension between Becky and the people around here, but now there's far more room as Becky opens herself up to the people around her and confronts her own issues of not truly knowing who her personality is.
It's a part of the role Moss realizes with equal levels of success as the more troubled parts of Becky Something. Whereas the latter aspect of the role called for subtlety to be thrown to the wind, now Moss captures Becky's struggle to make it through one day at a time in subdued terms that both evoke reality beautifully and tug on your heartstrings, particularly in a poignant scene where Becky sings a song for her young daughter. This scene (along with a surprisingly heartwarming ending) may be the best scene in Her Smell and serves as a clear sign of just how well it captures every angle of a troubled character like Becky Something. A rockstar (even a fictional one!) like no other deserves an equally unique movie and that's just what Becky Something gets with Her Smell, a film that's equal parts gripping in its intensity and also moving in its empathetic portrait of all the struggles Becky Something goes through.
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