Velvet Buzzsaw bloodies the pretentious world of art criticism

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have stayed up ‘til midnight to catch the premiere of Velvet Buzzsaw on Netflix February 1, but show me an indie thriller starring Jake Gyllenhaal and I’ll gladly sacrifice a few hours of sleep to be one of the first of the general public to watch it. 

I’m a bit desensitized to thrillers and horrors due to my media preferences, so I found it wasn’t fear of vengeful spirits that kept me up in the early hours of the morning. Instead I was left tossing and turning thinking about the devolution of Gyllenhaal’s art critiquing character, Morf Vandewalt, the excellent writing and direction Dan Gilroy imparted on the movie, and the framing and cinematography that turned on-screen deaths into works of art. 

We’re introduced to Vandewalt at an art show as he casually passes through security with an authoritarian air, a regular high-class couple struggling to get in behind him. He holds the art world at his fingertips, and knows it, too, if his judgemental and flippant attitude towards artists and gallery owners is anything to go off of. Gallery owner Rhodora Haze (Rene Russo), even compares Vandewalt to God after one of his negative reviews critically changes an artist’s life. It’s only after the discovery of a dead man’s artwork, and the consequences of commodifying it, that he begins to realize he isn’t the god he thought he was. When he begins to realize there’s an evil force out there controlling whether he lives or dies he begins to fall apart. Where some of the art owners and connoisseurs seem to be unaffected by the horror that is taking over their industry, Vandewalt curls further into himself as he relives all of his past actions and regrets that have made him and his colleagues into a target. The way Gyllenhaal portrays his character’s crisis kept me engaged throughout, eager to see if he would have enough time to learn from his mistakes before the evil force took hold of him. 

I was impressed with how much the sound editing directed my thoughts. The lighthearted plucking of strings within the first scene adjusted my mindset and caused me to start viewing the movie through a comedic lens. This decision on Gilroy’s part downplayed the horror/thriller aspect and allowed his argument to be the focus, shining through the gore in a rare occurrence when blood is involved. Of course, the strings picked up in sinister vibration in scenes that were meant to raise goosebumps, but for the majority of the movie I was rolling my eyes and guffawing at the pretentiousness of the art world, in a way happy that deadman Vetril Dease’s paintings were shaking up their perceived utopia.

The cinematography also lived up to my expectations, which were especially high given the movie is about art. Many of the scenes where Vandewalt, Haze, or Josephine (Zawe Ashton) are critiquing Dease’s work the camera angles are positioned in a closeup of their faces from the painting’s perspective, giving the sense that there’s some kind of being behind the canvas taking the brunt of their comments. I especially enjoyed the framing of the deaths in the movie. They were presented as art pieces in quickly shot frames that stirred my thoughts and pulled me back the next day for a rewind and pause so I could appreciate the full effect of macabre “exhibit.” 

Velvet Buzzsaw is definitely a film that I’ll be going back to rewatch so I can catch all the nuances and symbolism buried beneath the greed and pretenses, but for a first time viewer the movie’s message was clear, and the thrill and laughs made for a fun ride. Just don’t do what I did: save that late night viewing time slot for Parks and Rec reruns.