Once again grabbing us by the throat and dragging us into a world
of vindictiveness, jealousy, and crumbling relationships, Alex Ross Perry
continues to find new ways to make bitter break-ups strangely enjoyable. Unlike
last year's acid-tongue Listen
Up Phillip, Perry's latest film Queen
of Earth is an unnerving
psychological drama about friendship, or the perceived friendship between two
women. Like Single White
Female seen through the lens
of Ingmar Bergman and Roman Polanski, it's another uncomfortable,
paranoia-fueled psychodrama told in Perry's unique voice and featuring a pair
of remarkable lead performances.
Elisabeth Moss earned so much notice for
her riveting turn in Perry's Listen
Up Phillip that it's no
surprise he gave her the lead here, and she's even better. On the surface the
film seems incredibly simple, but deeper layers of complexity continue to
reveal themselves. The story centers on the fraying friendship between longtime
friends, Catherine (Moss), and Ginny (Inherent Vice's Katherine Waterston),
while vacationing at an idyllic lake house retreat. But this is no pleasure
trip a Catherine is in the midst of a depressing downward spiral, spurred on by
the recent death of her father and sudden break-up with her boyfriend.
But riding horses, relaxing by the water, and painting prove an
insufficient escape, and soon tensions begin to rise between the women,
tensions that only get worse with the arrival of Rich (Patrick Fugit), Ginny's
abrasive neighbor/love interest who takes glee in stirring things up.
It's too simple to say this is just
another movie where the lead character becomes unhinged because there's much
more going on than that. In fact, it could say this isn't really about a decaying
mental state at all, but the inevitable result of a symbiotic relationship gone
sour. What happens when friends who have come to rely on one another realize
their bond isn't as strong as it once was? Or perhaps it was never strong to
begin with, just a convenient crutch to be leaned on? Perry, who has always
been good at blending different visual styles and emotional tones, has come up
with a formula that is both melodramatic and B-movie pulp. Queen of Earth wouldn't be out of place playing as
part of a Midnight genre festival or at the local art house. For every
strange, offbeat turn, usually expressed by one of Catherine's breaks from
reality, there are subtle explorations into the dynamics of female friendships.
Petty jealousies, mistrust, compassion, and even love fight for emotional
dominance, making for a consistently enthralling experience. The unease is only
heightened by Keegan DeWitt's moody score, which again taps into the
psychological dramas of the past for inspiration.
While Fugit's role is certainly prominent,
and helps give the film an added sense of trepidation, ultimately this is a
two-hander led by Moss and Waterston. Both women are tremendous, no shocker
there, in performances that play like polar opposites. Waterston plays the
cool, aloof, and more stable of the two, but in her eyes one can see the quiet
gaze of judgment on her best friend. Meanwhile, Moss is the volatile one, but
underneath is a naiveté and innocence that makes us sympathize with her ordeal.
That feeling is heightened by scenes taking us a bit further back before
Catherine's breakdown, and we see the seeds being planted for what's to come.
So much works that it makes the one
artificial note stand out more, and it's when more characters enter the picture
for a party that's destined to be a disaster. It's the one time when Perry
overtly aims for more of a horror feel, perhaps riffing on Rosemary's Baby a little bit, and it doesn't quite
work with the rest of the film. Queen
of Earth builds steadily to a
dispiriting conclusion that will have us questioning everyone's sanity, but
it's the perfect finale for a film that constantly keeps us on unsure footing.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
