Blonde Review
Perhaps no other film this year has proved as divisive as Andrew Dominik’s adaptation of Blonde. Based on the book by Joyce Carol Oates, Blonde is a fictitious reconstruction of Marilyn Monroe/ Norma Jean’s life. Akin, to last year’s Spencer, Blonde is far more interested in understanding the psyche of its central figure rather than recount the facts we all already know. This is expressionistic not realistic. In many ways, this is not a biopic and viewing it as such will prove futile. This is a story about identity and pain, how it consumes and how it eventually destroys.
Within its opening sequences, Dominik’s film already proves mercurial and experimental. Photographs talk, while a lone figure sits at a piano. Fires rage indoors while neighbours do not seem to notice and Monroe’s mother takes on an unsettling form, framed as a horror villain like Carrie’s Margaret White. From its opening, Blonde, only becomes more experimental as it goes on, playing with all aspects of the visual medium. From its shifting colours, varying aspect ratios and fluid dynamic cuts, Dominik utilises everything at his disposal to highlight the multifaceted nature of Norma/Marilyn.
Ana De Armas is transformative as Norma/Marilyn. This is a bold performance and one that requires more than mere impression. In essence, De Armas is playing multiple characters in one. Going from the shy young Norma, who then morphs into the iconic, powerful pop-culture figure that was Marilyn Monroe. The film’s greatest strength is its depiction of Monroe as something otherworldly – a person that does not actually exist. When Norma sees herself on the big screen she mutters, “That’s not me”, a sentiment that is echoed throughout the film. Monroe is an entity that, quite literally, has to be summoned. A being created as a means for survival and success, for men to ogle at and objectify.
Objectification and the male gaze are an aspect of the film that has proved controversial. However, the objectification of Marilyn only adds to the tragedy of the feature. Depicting her as someone who simply wanted to be loved, but was adored solely on a superficial level. In one of the film’s most striking sequences, which depicts the filming of The Seven Year Itch and the iconic blowing dress, Dominik films this mass objectification as something eerie. Aided by the haunting Nick Cave and Warren Ellis score, the crowds of slobbering, sweaty men take on a fearful form, one which Monroe would have faced on a daily basis. You are witness to this objectified figure, but it never feels as though Dominik is inviting you to join in. It is purposefully shot to make you feel uncomfortable and disgusted at what Monroe was victim to.
There is a darkness that permeates and follows Norma throughout the story, where her childhood trauma sticks with her on a daily basis. In depicting this trauma, Dominik’s film does not harm the image of Monroe, but instead makes her achievements all the more astounding. The tragedy of Blonde acts as an impactful companion to Marilyn’s real body of work, revealing the pain behind her staggering career. This tragedy and melancholic atmosphere are aided by the ethereal Nick Cave and Warren Ellis score, which is undoubtedly the best of the year so far. It is a visceral piece of music and one which elevates the film, accentuating the beauty and sadness at the heart of this story.
At times Dominik’s style can be too overbearing, however. While many of his creative decisions are visually arresting, he does take it too far at points, with certain POV shots and talking foetuses ruining the immersion. These decisions were unnecessary and perhaps more consistency with the visual language could have bolstered the film.
It must be said that Blonde is a dark film, one in which its subject matter will undoubtedly turn people away. However, it is a picture in which the sum is indeed greater than its parts. Beautiful, bold and brutal, Blonde has already proved infuriating for some. However, through this mirage of truth and fiction Dominik has created a truly expressive piece, one in which feeling overrides fact. You are left understating the horrors and tragedy that plagued Norma’s life, but within this harrowing watch you cannot help but be moved, saddened and yet, amazed at the person behind the icon.
Score - 8/10