From the opening shot of "The Critic" you get the impression that you are about to bear witness to some 1950's melodrama. One that, in a former life, may have had Elizabeth Taylor, of whom Stella Velon is lip-quiveringly reminiscent, as it's leading lady. The celebrated actress, as the awards ceremony loop tells, in her gilded cage, cigarette in hand, gazing wistfully; firstly into her mirror, and then out of the window.
We are taken outside as a long shot establishes a large, post-modern house, no doubt purchased with the spoils of her recent success; but which, once back inside, we see does not make her happy.
This leading lady is troubled. Clad in black - expensive black, not cheap black. Raven hair styled.
Skin like a china doll.
She seems unsure. Unworthy?
She is waiting.
Into the scene, but unseen, comes the person she's been waiting for - the Interviewer. She is being interviewed about her recent acting award. Maybe this is why she looks so fragile? Actors act for a reason; they are rarely comfortable playing themselves.
So far, so good.
But here is where Director & Leading Lady, Stella Velon starts to play her hand; dealing her deck deliberately - like any great poker player.
The interviewer, played with the confrontational relish of a hardened LA homicide detective, by Alan Smyth, almost immediately puts the viewer on edge. Sure, he starts amiably enough, albeit with a not too subtle dig about her house; "Bit big for one person...", but from the get go we realize this interviewer may not be a fan of our leading lady.
So does she.
But is there more to him?
She sits there, acting her heart out; channeling professional, humorous, self-assured, self-deprecating - but believing none of it. The interviewer spits out questions like venomous arrows, almost as though he senses her lack of self-belief, disarming our demure heroine and tearing through the walls of her spanking new ivory tower before the mortar has even had chance to set.
We learn she was a previous unknown, plucked from obscurity to star in a blockbuster film, netting herself an award for her first movie. You sense she doesn't really believe she was deserving of her award; or at least, she knows others don't think her worthy. As her charming interrogator puts it "..you went up against actresses with 20 year careers..".
We discover that the character portrayed was a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, and that our lauded actress had overcome addiction also. The poisonous barbs posing as questions, fired off by the increasingly aggressive hack pierce her fragile ego.
Did she get the role because of her previous drug addiction or in spite of it? It becomes apparent that the journalist may not be simply a stereotypical bad guy. More a manifestation of Velon's character's own lack of conviction.
Does she feel unworthy?
A fraud?
This isn't just about getting a scoop. It is about trying to provoke a reaction. Is it about being a bully? Breaking our heroine - reflecting her own inner critic; giving her just the right stone to shatter her mirror.
It would be all too easy to paint the reported as plain wicked. However, listen carefully. Does he say anything we know to be wrong? Yes, his tone is harsh. His manner is aggressive. If this is a device by which to express the actresses lack of conviction, then it works.
Maybe he is the voice of her conscience; vocalizing that nagging doubt deep inside.
The beauty of this film is in the subtle reactions of Stella Velon; the minute twitches of her mouth. The odd flare of a nostril as she tries to stay composed. It is watching her already vulnerable eyes lose even the faint twinkle she'd managed to project. We never see the interviewer, only the silhouette of his face. We don't need to see any more.
This film is acutely balanced on the reactions of the newly created star; but the tension - the excrutiating embarrassment you feel as she struggles to respond to an increasingly hostile reviewer, is delivered with a punch by Alan Smyth.
If somebody took Edvard Munch's "The Scream" and said to Stella Velon "act this out during the course of the interview" the result is what you get here.
At some point you know she is going to fight back. She has to. When desperate calls to her publicist on the other side of the door receive no response & the door is locked; the tension ramps up to the max. You are crying out for her to tell this guy a thing or two; and at last she does.
This is also the point that I guessed the ending. It was at the point when I had become most uncomfortable; so it came at just the right turn of the screw.
Of course, I wouldn't dream of spoiling it for you, dear viewer.
Once I had figured out the ending, although Velon had shown her poker hand, the game was no less enjoyable for it. The piece was well crafted, classic and stylish. The fragile heroine. The "bad guy" who is far from one dimensional. The "Hollywood twist"; all were, satisfyingly, there.
The subdued, neo-noir style combined with a dash of Hitchcockian threat and a sharp twist, creates a short but punchy little number
Stella Velon carries the film with such vulnerable aplomb that you aren't sure whether she's acting, projecting, or scratching the fickle skin of Hollywood. Possibly, I'd like to think, all three.
Billy Reynard-Bowness - June 2020
Billy Reynard-Bowness - June 2020
