REVIEW: ‘Strange Darling’

It’s rather strange that the MTRCB would make cuts to Strange Darling, downgrading the original R-18 rating to R-16 for the buzziest film of the month.

In the Internet era, when nothing can ever surprise you anymore, the regulatory board should be more trusting of the Filipino audience to be discerning enough to choose what to consume, what to be influenced by, or at least to have the ability to look away from scenes they cannot handle.

Nevertheless, the slashed slasher flick remains a darling despite the cuts. Four minutes of deleted scenes, I discovered through meticulous Internet research, are extended gore and sex. Despite the nagging feeling of missing the full intention and vision of the filmmakers, one can still experience a complete thriller.

Called a “clever masterpiece” by Stephen King, Strange Darling’s strangest but delightful surprise is the film’s director of photography: Giovanni Ribisi. Shot on 35mm film — which, in my book, is how a movie should always be shot — it’s more than just exquisitely textured and grainy; it elevates the entire experience.

It transitions from black-and-white to vivid blues, pinks, and reds in secret spaces of cars and motels, before venturing into a picturesque, dreamy, fairy-tale-like forest and house in the woods, and then finishes again in black and white, draining the color and life from its finale.

Scarlet is a recurring, intense color — appearing in a wig, panties, nurse’s scrubs, a Pinto, a flannel shirt. And blood. Blood everywhere — gushing from body parts, splattered against the windshield, or pooling on the floor.

Strange Darling is the story of a serial killer in the final stages of their rampage, triggered by a one-night stand. The characters are nameless, led by The Lady (Willa Fitzgerald) and The Demon (Kyle Gallner), supported by brief but emotionally impactful appearances from old, hippie doomsday preppers (Ed Begley Jr. and Barbara Hershey).

Told in six jumbled chapters, meticulously shuffled to prolong your second-guessing, the “beginning” features strangers who have just met — The Lady and The Demon — bathed in blue. Their one-night stand isn’t born of impulse or frenzied lust but is carefully planned like a travel itinerary, considering possible risks, dangers, and code names for SOS.

With a 70s vibe and a touch of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, we follow the violent cat-and-mouse chase between The Lady and The Demon.

The film’s marketing advises viewers to keep the details hush-hush to avoid ruining the experience for those who have yet to watch. My jaw didn’t drop at the big reveal, though. Clues are scattered throughout. There’s also a glaring inconsistency regarding the psychological profile of the serial killer, relying more on gimmick than logic.

Since the film features the tail end of the serial killer’s spree, the tale is more a “slice of life” of a psycho. Hence, there’s less build-up and tension in anticipation of the killing. It’s more like a brutal, gruesome, and very adult yet gorgeously lensed Tom and Jerry.

The thrill lies in the details. You hold your breath as a character hides in some dark place with only a lighter to illuminate the space; the little lies and manipulations; the gender biases; and the disturbing kinky sex and assaults.

For fans of slasher films and bloody violence, this could be a fun spree. It’s a tight, lean, and engaging nonlinear suspense, mostly memorable for its striking cinematography and Fitzgerald’s brilliant, darling performance.

3 out of 5 stars

Now showing in cinemas