Pearl (Mia Goth) isn’t herself, and she has no idea what the problem is. She’s too rigid in her beliefs, such as her urge to dance on haystacks while wielding a pitchfork or her penchant for secretly butchering animals.
She longs to leave her Texas farm in 1918 and experience the love that comes from performance, to be accepted as an act rather than for who you really are.
She once impaled a duck on a pitchfork and served it to her best buddy, an alligator, which is not something that is likely to be mentioned in any of her future celebrity profiles (as we see when her name splashed across the screen in the opening credits).
Actors can be terrifying in “Pearl” by Ti West because they fuel the destructive desire to be noticed at any cost. Given that, it’s only appropriate that the film’s best scene, its closing shot (no spoilers here; we all know she survives to 1979 thanks to West’s “X”), comes from Goth exploiting her face for sinister means.
Her teeth show that she is happy, but the rest of her face is fixed in a wide, forced grin that belies the twitching muscles and welling tears that reveal something much more frightening.
During the end credits, West forces us to stare at it. Everything about this character study is as unsettling as it gets, and it’s a shame the plot isn’t as nuanced as the character’s final, wordless plea for assistance because of it.
Pearl’s statements throughout the film, such as “The whole world is going to know my name,” “I don’t like reality,” and “All I want is to be loved,” are fun to interpret as an actor/serial killer double-speak, despite how obvious the plotting and dialogue can be from co-writers West and Goth in painting a portrait of a monster.
With a breathy, thickly accented voice trying to make her sound naive and incredibly innocent, a carbon duplicate of the innumerable Pearls out there, Goth makes these insights count in primitive showcases.
Later, when someone has made Goth feel tiny, the camera stays on her face for a while, taking us on a roller coaster journey of her worries about being unloved and her actual self. Afterward, they feel the repercussions.
Those who saw this year’s “X” will recall the farm where several actors from adult films met their deaths, as well as the old Goth Pearl who, like the original Pearl in “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” was frequently stripped naked and took the rejection personally.
In “Pearl,” the few murders are more deliberate and serve as the finale to scenes of fury, rejection, and her personal frustrations. West makes the most of them, building tension with camera movement (slowly spinning, waiting for Pearl to pop into the frame at one point) and adding his own cruelty to the editing.
Dark comedies are intended, despite the fact that they typically occur during the day and within Pearl’s insanity. The deaths are successfully bracing, but the uneven tone ultimately undermines the film’s attempts at emotional depth.
Shots of the house are similar to those in “X,” but cinematographer Eliot Rockett renders it in vivid Technicolor, creating a fantastical, almost fairy-tale setting in which Pearl can daydream about running away in her blue sky overalls.
Inside the house, where Pearl lives in seclusion and profound unhappiness, things get darker since Pearl’s father (Matthew Sunderland) is bedridden, unwell, and unable to communicate.
While “Pearl” is a monster film, Tandi Wright’s portrayal of Goth’s mother Ruth is as chillingly repulsive as anything since “Mommie Dearest,” and it’s hard to deny that Ruth is the film’s true antagonist.
The trick of evil in “X” and “Pearl” is repression; it makes connection, joy, and so much that is fruitful all the more out of reach.
There will be bloodshed as a result. In a stunning moment that serves as the film’s climax, Ruth sheds light on the world’s horrors as she shreds Pearl’s dreams of escape, casts Pearl as a failure, and yells about her own profound dissatisfaction with life.
Her writing is so powerful that it appears to be able to calm the raging storms outside. For Pearl, it’s a watershed moment, and for Goth and Wright, it’s a triumphant showcase.
Pearl is able to forget about her problems for a while whenever she watches a movie or even just imagines herself in one.
She goes into town to purchase some medicine for her father and ends up seeing one, which makes her wish she could be just like the happy dancer she sees in the picture.
In addition, she meets a handsome projectionist (David Corenswet) who makes her feel like a movie star, however, she learns later what kind of movies he has in mind and what he wants from her.
Pearl continues to be as naive as she is needy as she tells him, with wistful phrases, that she wants to be a celebrity. Here, we must have faith in Goth and West’s commitment to this character and assume that they truly want the best for her.
The world in the West’s picture is sick; the Spanish Flu has arrived in the United States, forcing people to stay indoors and hide behind masks.
That’s more authentic to the time period than the movie’s presentation; it’s hard to shake the feeling that the filmmakers are having so much fun with themselves that they’re practically inviting audiences to poke fun at the movie’s period details (like the cars, dresses, and even a full-on dance number).
The aesthetic gamble of “Pearl” comes across as adorable rather than immersive, yet it is successful in other aspects, such as the stunning wall-to-wall score by Tyler Bates and Tim Williams that opens with a lush main theme.
The authenticity of “Pearl” is called into doubt much too often. Yes, this provides Goth with an alluring opportunity to develop an intriguing character, to expose the performer’s feelings and motivations, and to allow us to track her emotions like a slasher’s movements.
What we’re supposed to take away from her hallucinations, violent outbursts, and need for love is unclearer in “Pearl,” however. Too often in “Pearl,” you feel like laughing at the main character. We all agree that she would be offended by this.
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