Maps to the Stars is one of those rare films that compels you to watch even though doing so is painful to do.
It’s not that it’s a bad film, in fact it’s quite brilliant. But even though this grisly tour of Hollywood’s ugly side can be hard to watch, you daren’t take your eyes off it for a second.
The film follows a set of seemingly unrelated characters, each struggling in their own way to survive Hollywood’s poisonous atmosphere.
Julianne Moore gives a powerhouse performance as fading movie star Havana Segrand, for which she won Best Actress at the Cannes Film Festival back in May.
Havana is haunted by visions of her late mother, herself a famous actress, who she believes abused her as a child.
Despite this, or perhaps because of it, Havana is obsessed with landing her mother’s role in a remake of Stolen Waters, her most iconic film.
The film opens as the enigmatic Agatha (Mia Wasikowska) returns to Los Angeles after a period of exile.
The burn scars on her face and her emotional imbalance – she is referred to as a ‘disfigured schizophrenic’ at one point – allude to a chequered past, of which we gradually learn more as the film goes on.
Also in the mix is Stafford Weiss (John Cusack), an unctuous self-help guru, who along with wife Cristina (Olivia Williams), keeps a close eye on the career of their son Benjie (Evan Bird), a foul-mouthed, Bieber-esque megastar.
Capping the ensemble is Robert Pattinson, playing limo driver/struggling actor Jerome Fontana.
Jerome provides the film with a valuable counterpoint, as the only character to not completely lose his marbles.
Maps to the Stars stands out for its powerful acting. In addition to the Moore’s deranged Havana, Wasikowska portrays Agatha beautifully.
She is at once chillingly sinister and completely mesmerising, possibly acting as a metaphor for Hollywood in general.
David Cronenberg is known for originating the ‘body horror’ genre; his films have tended to focus on graphic physical destruction or transformation of their subjects.
Maps to the Stars isn’t a body horror as such, but it does centre on a gruesome disease of sorts – the addiction to fame.
Life in Hollywood, where the spotlight shines brightest, will eventually break you down to the point where you would dance on the graves of children.
The Sword of Damocles is just too menacing, the horse’s hair holding it too thin.
The great thing about this movie is that it doesn’t hold back in its criticism of the entertainment industry.
Full to the brim with madness, addiction, illness, incest and violence, Cronenberg hasn’t done anything by half-measures.
Some of the things we see and hear in Maps to the Stars leave us utterly gobsmacked, to the point where we can do nothing but laugh.
Yes, they are caricatures but that’s the point of satire. Maps to the Stars is weird, scary, darkly funny and, most importantly, thought-provoking.
Maps to the Stars is showing at Cornerhouse in Manchester this week and next.
Image courtesy of Entertainment One, via YouTube, with thanks.
