************************This review contains spoilers****************************
“So much easier to talk about money than art.”
Velvet Buzzsaw transports us to the swanky art scene of Los Angeles following renowned art critic Morf Vandewalt (Jake Gyllenhall), gallery owner Rhodora Haze (Rene Russo), and art agent Josephina (Zawe Ashton). After Josephina discovers masterful paintings made by her elderly neighbor Vetril Dease (Alan Mandell) following his death, she conspires with Morf and Rhodora to publicly display and sell the works, despite Dease’s intention to never allow anyone other than himself to see his work. After the trio moves to do what they wish the dead man’s art, one by one, the conspirators begin to meet grisly, untimely deaths.
Director/writer Dan Gilroy’s film is clearly meant to be a bold, metaphoric statement on the commodification of art in our society. In this current moment, the film industry especially is grappling with balancing artistic merit and intent with recognize what is most successful and profitable; a gap that is ever widening as more mature, art house content cedes more and more box office to films geared toward children and teens. Thirty-one years ago, a film like Rain Man could top both the box office and the awards circuit, while today, even a film featuring a powerhouse ensemble struggles to make a dent in ticket sales due to a lack of spectacle. This growing gulf between what’s popular and what’s artistically vibrant is something the film industry continues to struggle to learn how to address, with the Academy Awards recently attempting a compromise that ended disastrously. As movie studios scramble to construct billion dollar grossing franchises, this era of film has seen an incredible amount of involvement from executives and producers in the creation of films, sometimes to catastrophic results, as they try to satisfy both consumers and a critical class that is becoming increasingly vitriolic and subject to claims of bias.
If Velvet Buzzsaw feels like a response to this change in modern film-making that’s not an accident, it’s something that Dan Gilroy has directly acknowledged during the film’s press run. The film serves as a window into how the non-creatives that hover around the world of artists and control how said art is disseminated for profit only serve to destroy the artist and themselves while bastardizing the art through their greed, competition, and shallowness. The message present in the story is that when art is viewed purely as a means to gain notoriety and wealth, at the expense of recognizing and acknowledging the humanity present within art, its statements and how it examines our emotions, our experiences, and our condition, these business executives and critics lose their own humanity in the process. For instance, as Morf the art critic engages in the bastardization of Dease’s work, he gradually begins loses his sight, the very thing he depended upon to build his place in the art world as a renowned critic; a sort of poetic justice and statement on what happens when critics abdicate their responsibility to unbiased, critical work.
The pain caused by the devaluing of art is not just displayed through the misfortune of those seeking to take advantage, but in what happens to the art itself, as Gilroy attempts to show the audience. By the end of the film, Dease’s work is being sold on the street for less than $10, and in a display of heavy metaphor drawing directly from Gilroy’s own experience in the industry, the film’s end credits display artist Piers (John Malkovich) exiled on a beach and drawing in the sand, only to have his creations washed away into nothingness by incoming tides. These last two scenes that Gilroy leaves us are meant to convey the end result of prioritizing dollars over creative endeavors. Great works are lost and wasted, never to be properly appreciated by anyone and instead becoming disposable “things” that no one ever takes a moment to fully digest or value. That the hard work and creativity of creators can be washed away like sand on the shores so easily and flippantly is posited as the tragedy at the center of a film featuring a plethora of gruesome deaths; a theme that dovetails perfectly with what many believe is a growing problem in the entertainment industry today.
Velvet Buzzsaw mixes biting commentary on the state artistic commerce with horror elements and aesthetics that envokes the Final Destination franchise. The satirical look at the delicate and deadly dance between creativity and modern hyper-capitalism and fame seeking feels very timely and speaks directly to our current moment, particularly in film. The commentary present is a scathing statement on art and artists being sacrificed at the altar of profitability with deleterious effects on not just creatives, but ultimately, those seeking riches themselves. Despite the strength of the film’s theme and its depth, the mix of a horror tone and a satirical one may be a weird one for many viewers, with the attempt at serving two masters resulting in an inability to satisfy either. The ho hum performances of the stellar cast, including just a decent performance from longtime Gilroy collaborator Jake Gyllenhall only further highlights the flaws present in the film despite the truth in its message. The thematic depth present in Velvet Buzzsaw makes it an intriguing watch, but the film’s flaws prevent it from being more than just an interesting statement on a current debate within the zeitgeist.
Image: Netflix
