Review: Velvet Buzzsaw (2019)

Dan Gilroy and Victoria Thomas put as much time into their thinking when casting Velvet Buzzsaw as could be possible. There are no small roles in this movie, and it shows. Big characters with subtle moments, and great performances. They are all entertaining.

A satire of the monetization of the therapeutic qualities of art, done with a nod to the trashy aspects of horror cinema as a way to highlight the idea of commercialization of trauma is trash. Most of the other reviews I’ve read haven’t really taken into account one specific, and leading character, the artist Dease. It’s understandable, as Dease is never properly presented as a main character in the sense of sharing dialog and exemplifying his motivation, but the film is as much about him as it is any other character.

Dease made his art, for himself, for his own reasons, as a man who had hidden himself away from the horrors he’d experienced and perpetrated in the world. The characters who suffer, all suffer from whatever part they play in turning that into the empty vehicle for profit and weird pretentiousness the film satirizes. It’s not satirizing the art world as it’s essential point. The essential point is that all of that pretentiousness and profit is based on perpetuating suffering. Poverty and scarcity are it’s foundation, and it genuinely doesn’t care how much or what kind of suffering goes into its foundation.

Dease being a spectral character, both literally and in the lack of specific explanation for his motives, Velvet Buzzsaw drops the cliché of having the “villain” explain their entire motivation. It’s all there when taking the actions of the other characters and Dease back story into account. The movie is really about Dease, told through these other characters point of view.

It’s definitely an odd film, because any audience normally considered the target for its themes isn’t really the audience. It’s not trashy enough for a trashy horror audience, and isn’t interested enough in laboring to put on the pretentions that the audience for high minded satire is expecting.

There’s a certain perfection to it being released on Netflix for that reason. As much as it is skewering the world that’s taken art of all kinds and turned it into a commodity, it’s not ignoring its own thesis and being presented to what is probably the widest audience possible, that really just wants to be entertained for 90 or 120 minutes.

There are a few pieces of excellent satire mixed in, a scene with a group of school children in a gallery which involves Toni Collette’s character is great, and probably closest to revealing the underlying thesis of the movie. All of the performances are great. Rene Russo and John Malkovicj share a scene that borders on being genuinely touching, and it made me want to see more of them together. Jake Gyllenhall is great, being both over the top in his pretentiousness and being able to weave in enough for the character to be likeable to some degree. The casting is above and beyond the standard, for every role, even the single scene exposition heavy spots where characters are usually completely forgettable. Everyone makes their scenes interesting, and they all feel like they exist in the world of the film, beyond moving the plot forward.

It’s definitely not for everyone. Anyone who goes into a movie looking to just be entertained shouldn’t be dissapointed. Those who are going in with expectations of what the genres it touches are prone to providing are going to disappointed.

In it’s weird way, this could be great as a double feature with Sorry To Bother You. Make it a triple feature and throw in Spike Lee’s Bamboozled, and there’s be quite a comment on the monetization of suffering, art and the insidious structures that ignore the negative aspects of it.