A woman emerges from the woods, clad in only a bra and underwear, mascara forming craters under her eyes. She’s blonde, young, and attractive. She’s running for her life. It’s an iconic image in cinema, and it’s accompanied by other recognizable signposts of genre: freeze frames, a title card boasting 35mm cinematography, the grindhouse font, and the introduction of a narrative told out of sequence, and in chapters evocative of the Quentin Tarantino school of pastiche filmmaking. The sun is high, and the grass is dry and dead, scratching at the heels of our ostensible protagonist—presumably the lone survivor of the serial killer we were warned about in the film’s opening crawl. A narrator explains that what we’re about to see is the final days of a serial killer’s spree across multiple states. We’ve been here before. At least, that’s what Strange Darling wants us to think.
JT Mollner’s sophomore feature is a veritable two-hander; a cat-and-mouse play between Willa Fitzgerald (MTV’s Scream) and Kyle Gallner (Jennifer’s Body and various other early-to-mid-aughts studio horror flicks), cast as the “The Lady” and “The Demon,” respectively. Told out of sequence, Strange Darling deftly unfolds through a series of narrative somersaults, each more exhilarating than the last. From the outset, Mollner’s film is almost too familiar—another piece of self-serious artsy high-brow apologia from a male filmmaker insisting that he “gets it.” Fitzgerald monologues at one point about the perils of dating while female; of the morbid considerations we make and the risks we often take just to have a little fun. Cloaked in blue light from a cheap motel sign as they idle in the man’s truck, a suggestion begins taking shape: maybe this lady is getting more than she bargained for. “Are you a serial killer?” she asks, assuring the man of her seriousness. He takes almost too long to answer.
And then Mollner begins upending our assumptions one by one. In what could be considered one of Strange Darling‘s many subversions, Mollner almost seems to be guided by Fitzgerald’s performance rather than the other way around. Fitzgerald is nervy and entirely unself-conscious; you can see the machinery at work behind her eyes, yet she’s nearly impossible to read. Each chapter of the story adds another layer to the dynamic between Fitzgerald and Gallner, the latter of whom keeps his cards much closer to his chest. Though we’re anxiously awaiting the moment when he finally clamps his jaw around his prey, there is an uncertainty to Gallner as he attempts to negotiate this seeming one-night stand.
It’s difficult to get too specific about the plot because so much of Strange Darling hinges on assumptions—about gender, consent, and sexual violence, but also our assumptions about storytelling, genre filmmaking, and performance. At nearly every turn, Mollner knows what we are thinking about his movie and what we expect to happen next. When Fitzgerald laments a woman’s inability to “have a little fun” without fear of being raped or murdered, it feels a little put on. When Gallner is visibly frustrated by her mercurial turns in the motel room, it feels like we’re edging into a “not all men” morality play. It isn’t just that we’ve been conditioned and re-conditioned—through social interactions, news media, and filmmaking—to see stories in a certain way; it’s that we’ve also been conditioned to understand how these stories are subverted and refashioned, and who gets to do the telling.
This all sounds terribly serious, and while there’s certainly a lot to chew on, Strange Darling is one hell of a thrill ride. Mollner’s script is sharp and systematic, bolstered by a breathtaking performance from Fitzgerald, who absolutely tears into the role—all the way down to the gristle and marrow. Strange Darling also looks fantastic thanks to the aforementioned cinematography, courtesy of Giovanni Ribisi. The actor, who famously played a photographer in Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation, has shot a few music videos in recent years. Strange Darling is Ribisi’s first feature as a DP, and the results are impressive.
Strange Darling has yet to secure distribution, but with the right backing, Mollner’s film could be the next great genre hit—the sort of buzzy thriller best seen knowing as little as possible. If you’ve read this far without seeing it, you’ve already screwed up.
(featured image: Miramax)
