But is it art? No.
Back in the 90’s there was a brief but serious art world crush on Henry Darger, a mild-mannered custodian who obsessively painted and wrote about a tribe of heroic little Morton Salt girls. Straight up creepy and crazy to me, but marketed as crazy brilliance and deemed museum-worthy by an art world desperate for a new visionary.
Velvet Buzzsaw takes that idea to its logical horror movie final destination. It’s not particularly scary or insightful, but a ridiculously top shelf cast makes the movie way more entertaining than it should be.
Jake Gyllenhaal’s mostly naked body is cute af, but I have mixed feelings about his freaky recent performances. It’s nice to see him having fun but he’s heading into Depp territory, and I don’t mean that in a good way. Rene Russo is an actor that I have never really seen the appeal of, but she’s brilliant here. Billy Magnussen kills it again. I know he’s been around for a minute, but ever since I saw him in Ingrid Goes West, he’s consistently surprised me with standout work. Zawe Ashton is perfectly cast – she reminded me of a young Jaye Davidson, and I do mean that in a good way.
All their work isn’t exactly gilding a turd, but close enough for the metaphor to be relevant, given the subject matter.
in the dark 