Vox Lux is madness. From Willem Dafoe’s eerie narration, the expeditious tonal shifts between each act, the audacious cinematography, the homicidal scenarios, the blazing costumes, the melancholy—yet—enterprising pop music, an angelic neon score, the actively vicious dialogue, a baffling ending like no other, and backward credits (???), this movie hits the dead nail on why creative filmmaking must be maintained and preserved for all of eternity.
There’s an unconditional betrayal in not granting the viewers with the traditional, sugar-coded sort of cinematic pleasure. This is guaranteed to polarize and fluster most, but in the murkiness of this conundrum is a concealed consciousness of a galvanizing, meaty fracas advocated within its unhinged themes of fame. All in all, I savored the devil out of Vox Lux. (Verdict: A-)
Dear Academy,
Give Natalie Portman and Jude Law nominations or el…
Thank you and farewell!
This Movie is a Part of My List: The Best Films of 2018
Burning the Celluloid 
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