Her Smell (2018/19)
Directed by Alex Ross
Perry
Gunpowder and Sky,
135 minutes, R (language, drug use, adult situations)
★★★
The most accurate way to describe Her Smell is to call it a mess. It's often an intriguing and
interesting mess, but it is nonetheless a shambles of a film kept together by
music and decent acting.
It's the waning days of punk rock, but the female trio
Something She can still command a good-sized audience through the charisma of
lead singer and guitarist Becky Something (Elisabeth Moss). That is, when she's
not too stoned, pissed off, psychotic, or all three to arrive on time, if at
all. She's become an addicted flake who pays more attention to her charlatan
shaman Ya-ema (Eka Darville) than to band mates Ali (Gayle Rankin) and Mari (Agyness
Deyn). Nor does she give a damn that her tempestuous and behavior is bankrupting her manager
Howard (Eric Stoltz) and breaking the heart of her mother Ania (Virginia
Madsen). To top it off, she has an infant daughter, Tama, to her ex-husband
Danny (Dan Stevens), formerly known as "Dirtbag Danny" but now trying
to find stability via sobriety, a new wife, and acting as Tama's only sane
caregiver.
Think of Becky as a wigged out self-destructive prima donna.
She gets away with a lot because she's the kind of electric personality who can
show up two hours late for a gig, sing a song or two, toss her guitar onto the
stage, strut off into the wings, and listen to the wild applause of adoring
acolytes. Yeah, this kind of shit went down a storm during punk rock's heyday!
Then tastes changed, audiences began to notice that their heroes and sheroes
were seriously screwed up, and that a lot of them were terrible musicians. The
last isn't true of Becky or her band, but when a drugged out Becky commanders a
studio where Howard hopes to record a new band, even she notices that The
Akergirls have a sweeter, more melodic sound that—in her words—is "what
young people are listening to." (Cara Delevigne is a "member" of
the Akergirls.) In other words, there are increasingly fewer reasons to put up
with Becky.
This is a film about addiction, ego, and wicked bad
behavior. It's not structured enough to be a slice of musical history and, at
times, it hardly seems structured at all. This is partly deliberate and
partially a result of a hodgepodge script. Director Alex Ross Perry opts for a
cinéma vérité approach that is effectively jarring in spotlighting how an
addicted person's world is a manic series of scattershot bang-bang disconnected
episodes that never cohere. Becky's tantrums and narcissism sometimes reminded
me of Madonna's Truth or Dare, though
Madonna would never be as unorchestrated as Becky. If you're not prepared for
this kind of filmmaking, much of Her
Smell might seem like anime with live actors. Objectively, it is hard to watch at times, though
overall I think the shaky camera documentary approach lent an air of
verisimilitude.
In films such as this, though, you know that resolutions are
limited: early death, getting clean, or hovering between addiction and
sobriety. Was it a mistake to interject a backstory of a daughter? I'd yield to
anyone who accused Perry of stitching into a rough-edged film elements of
sentimentality and conventionality. One could certainly argue that this is a
forced fit. There are also parts that are just plain dumb, especially those
involving Becky's shaman. Okay, there are some weird mystics out there, but
this character is badly developed and seems more of a cartoon than someone
anybody would follow.
Moss is pretty good as Becky, even when she seems to be
channeling Courtney Love. Deyn and Rankin are also solid as her band mates. They
strike the right balance between concern and screw-you anger toward Becky. Moss
provides her own voice in some of the songs–though the band Bully did much of
the soundtrack–and though Moss probably won't headline a club near you, she's
credible as a snarling punk rocker. She also does a sensitive piano-backed
cover of Bryan Adams' "Heaven." We're not talking Lady Gaga here, but
Moss is certainly proving that her chops and range are broad and diverse.
Is this movie worth a look? If you can get past the fact
that there are more holes in the script than in Becky Something's stage fishnet
stockings, yes. But take me to heart. Overall the film is a bit like DYI punk
rock. That is to say that at times it's pure shite, but when it rings true, Her Smell rocks you.
Rob Weir
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