I love to root for an underdog, I really do! As an infinitely wise songstress once noted, “I bet on losing dogs,” and I profess that to be true of myself more often than not. Unfortunately, this Mitski-ism applies to my unfettered adoration for one of the most enthralling films I’ve seen in a long time, Damien Chazelle’s “Babylon”.
If you haven’t caught up with the rat race of opinions swirling around this movie on social media (namely the tombs of film twitter), or don’t find yourself obsessively tracking box office performance for every new release to obtain a sense of prophetic superiority (namely occurring in the tombs of Reddit), you probably don’t know or care why it’s been deemed a polarizing flop and lost money by the day. Maybe you saw a glimpse of the (nonsensical) trailer, or saw a promotional TikTok and a Stitch of said TikTok dunking on how bad the promotion was, or like me, you hate Brad Pitt and want to see him fail by any means.
Anyway, I decided to block out the noise and sort out this mess for myself, and went to go see this film alone twice in the last two weeks. I’m here to tell you with assurance and confidence to cast the gossip aside and experience this movie for yourself in all of its grotesque, in-your-face, haunting splendor.
A maelstrom of factors contributed to the underperformance of this brassy drama about 1920s Los Angeles and the rise and fall of many influential figures in the film industry as the introduction of talking pictures sweeps the nation: a winter storm submerging half the US, unclear marketing tactics that obscured the plot of the film in favor of depending upon star power to draw traffic, a hefty runtime and competition with one of the biggest blockbusters of the last decade. Haters may say Hollywood films crafted solely for the purpose of telling its own story are regurgitative, unnecessary and corny, and they’re not entirely wrong. But honestly, I think anyone walking out of “Babylon” thinking that it was That Sort of love letter to Hollywood or a mere amalgamation of vulgar tropes and shock value must be sorely mistaken or have a few screws loose.
The thing about this story that really intrigues me is its intentionality. It insists upon itself in the best possible way, forces you to see it for what it is and never leaves a stone unturned. It has a very clear three act structure and spells out for you exactly what will happen from the opening before the title card, which is why I consider criticisms of the movie’s “lack of plot or direction” frankly hollow and inarticulate. Upon rewatching the film, I picked up on the strength of the script that lays breadcrumbs for every twist and turn, as well as the prophecy foretold for each of the main characters (Diego Calva’s Manuel Torres, Margot Robbie’s Nellie La Roy and Brad Pitt’s Jack Conrad). Never is a hair out of place or red herring abandoned in the storytelling of this film, and it works exceptionally well.
Maybe this is just me finally finishing Westworld, or maybe this is because of my thinking about rewatching mysteries such as “Glass Onion” to reveal new pieces of the story, but there is something truly magical about a story smart enough to improve upon itself in increasingly engaging layers with repetition. In reference to the latter example, a film like a fugue that circles back upon itself until it sings a new song is a marvelous feat, and that is what “Babylon” feels like to me: a finely tuned symphony.
Though the unavoidable spectacle of orgiastic parties, literal elephant shit and villainous violence could turn away large swaths of audiences, I feel that each “shocking” scene was never misplaced and served its own purpose with remarkable moments of clarity. There’s a Gatsbyesque quality to this film’s answer to the romanticized sanitization of many imaginations of Old Hollywood, one that presents the horrors and wonders of indulgence solely for indulgence’s sake.
To sidestep for a moment, I need to note how strong the performances in this film are. Not a single artist weakens this ensemble; Diego Calva’s Manny is so grounded and warm and pulls viewers into every scene he features in, and he plays opposite Margot Robbie to play off of the spectacle and vulnerability she folds into the nuanced character of Nellie. And I absolutely have to say that there is something so vindicating and right about watching Brad Pitt’s frozen, decrepit face signifying legions of roguish alcoholic womanizers who fall victim to decay and despair in a changing culture that leaves them behind. You couldn’t write a better story for him if you tried!
The cameos and scene stealers in this film also add so much to the story. Rory Scovel, Olivia Wilde, Katherine Waterston and Olivia Hamilton all bring such humor and dedication to their roles and disappear into the figures of crew members, ex wives and con men as ludicrous as the movies they make. A dishonorable mention goes to Kaia Gerber who absolutely vacuums the chemistry out of one of the most sexually charged moments of the film in 30 seconds. These appearances aren’t stunts or vain props, but rather tastefully woven into the fabric of a sprawling legion of people and places one can never forget.
I also appreciate that this film is aware of its context both internally and externally; the marginalization and tentative alliance between Sidney Palmer and Lady Faye Zhu is a potent reminder of the exclusivity of film, past and present. Nellie’s shame and feminine performance meet a moral panic and societal upheaval of acceptable female sexuality, and her queerness is erased at the expense of her happiness and personal agency. Manuel’s transformation into Manny — backed by my absolute favorite part of the score — demonstrates perfectly how ceremonial figureheads for diverse representation often utilize their power to progress capitalist and white supremacist ideals in the name of progress, leaving a path of destruction and devastation in their wake to perform marginalization in a neat box.
To circle back to the intentionality of this film, I think of the opening 30ish minutes that portray the preparation, celebration and aftermath of a wild party in the Bel Air hills. From the moment you meet each character of the ensemble at this party, you are told exactly what role they play, how they aim to supersede or surpass that role, and what means the most to them in the entire world.
Jovan Adepo’s Sidney Palmer is swept into the crowd, nearly stomped on and provides art and entertainment for minimal recognition or pay, a painfully modern precedent for the exploitation of Black artists in the introduction of talking pictures. Li Jun Li’s achingly sophisticated Lady Faye Zhu is fetishized and used as a pawn by the wealthy white men who view her not as a friend, but rather a means to an end. And Manny and Nellie, surrounded by piles of cocaine and hiding from the decadence beyond the walls that encase them, egg each other on to declare their dreams of stardom and transcendence; audiences can also immediately note that Nellie uses Manny as a foothold to stardom, and (no spoilers!) leads him down a path with dire consequences.
Finally, also lauded — and rightfully so — for her stunning monologue at the beginning of the third act of the film is Jean Smart, who plays a sharp critic observing and shaping Hollywood as contemporary viewers and insular audiences know it. Smart’s character warns and soothes Pitt’s Jack Conrad of his mortality, fading fame and thin tether holding him to the nostalgia of the past. This meta moment reminds viewers that the story they are currently facing is an immortalization and in fact, resurrection of the stories of the ghosts it belongs to. As Smart would put it, “hundreds of years later, their ghosts will dine together as one,” through the magic of film.
This note is morbidly potent, and doesn’t leave audiences with a strict verdict of how they should remember or reflect upon film. It doesn’t declare it to be good, or bad, or the end all be all. It simply reaffirms that it is what Manny originally wishes it to be and witnesses for himself in the film’s conclusion: bigger than life.
Please go see this film, and afterwards, please also check out these reviews (spoilers included, of course) that I loved and definitely inspired some of my above thoughts!
In Defense of Damien Chazelle's Babylon - Zoë Rose Bryant
Damien Chazelle's Babylon Is A Story Of Identity And Assimilation Amid Hollywood Chaos - Robert Daniels
‘Babylon’ – Review - Jillian Chilingerian
issue sixty-one
Have yet to watch it and I’m now convinced I must, your voice and style is so alluring, kudos for being a wonderful spokesperson for films