This is the type of movie that generates strong reactions in the audience, reactions that run the gamut but at least rise above the resounding “meh” that meets most summer films. It’s a meticulously crafted work of art, each scene precise and perfectly calibrated as colors dissolve into each other and create an artificial world of detachment. As Cliff Martinez’s phenomenal score pulsates in the background–scratch that, at the forefront–Natasha Braier’s striking cinematography balances beauty, hollowness, and the grotesque. Anything from mirrors to animals are used as key symbols throughout, and a runway scene during the second half is a brilliant symbolic representation of an essential transformative moment. This is style over substance in a good way; sure, the film’s satirical elements and Refn’s penchant for symbolism aren’t particularly mind-blowing, but the way they’re integrated into the aesthetic experience is fascinating.
Polar Bears Watch TV 