X: A Neon-Drenched Nightmare
The 1985 Car Crash
My ears are still ringing. Sieriously. Just stumbled out of the cinema and I feel like I've been in a car crash. A very, very stylish, neon-drenched car crash from 1985. The bass was so deep, so physical, that it was rattling my fillings. That sound design, cranked up to 11 on the big theater speakers… you don't just hear the bone snap, you feel it in your teeth. My popcorn was left forgotten for the last hour, turning stale in the bucket beside me. My hand was just a clenched fist on my armrest, knuckles white, holding onto reality for dear life.
God. Where do I even start?
It's not a movie. It's a fever dream. A gritty, sticky, synth-soaked nightmare about fame and what it does to you. Mia Goth. Holy shit. Mia Goth. She isn't acting. She's channeling some kind of vengeful, forgotten Hollywood starlet who’s come back to claim what she's owed. She is a force of nature wrapped in human skin. There's this one scene, this one single moment that's just seared into my brain. She's on a soundstage, arguing with a director, and the camera just pushes in on her face. And for a split second, all the ambition and the trauma and the sheer, unadulterated *will* just melts away, and you see this terrified little girl underneath. It was gone in a flash, but I physically leaned forward in my seat. My back is killing me now from being so tense for two hours straight. The tension in the auditorium was palpable, a shared anxiety among strangers.
The Vengeful Starlet
Mia Goth's performance is not something you watch; it's something you survive. She plays the lead with a duality that is terrifying to watch. One minute she's a fragile, victimized girl, eyes wide with innocence, and the next she's a monstrous predator, smiling a smile that cuts deeper than any knife. She embodies the cyclical nature of abuse in Hollywood—she is both the victim and the perpetrator, blurring the lines until we are complicit in her violence. The nuance in her movements, the way she tilts her head just so… it’s not acting. It’s possession. It’s watching someone channel a demon made of glitter and broken glass.
The way the camera treats her is voyeuristic yet reverent. It loves her, but it also wants to destroy her. The framing feels like a stalker's lens, lingering too long on her skin, on her pain, turning her trauma into a spectacle for us to feast upon. It’s uncomfortable, but that’s exactly the point. We are all watching her fall apart, and we paid for the ticket.
| Property | Details |
|---|---|
| Movie Title | X (2022) |
| Genre | Horror / Psychological / Satire |
| Platform | Theatrical Experience (Seen in Cinema) |
| Visual Style | VHS Aesthetic / Bleeding Neon |
| Sound Design | Cranked to 11 / Bone-rattling Bass |
The Decaying VHS Tape
The whole thing feels like a VHS tape that’s been decaying in a hot attic for 30 years. The colors are all bleeding, the reds are so red they're almost black, bleeding into the shadows. The grain is thick, coating every scene in a layer of nostalgic grime. It reminded me of being a kid and sneaking downstairs to watch those slasher movies my older brother rented. The ones my parents forbid. The thrill of it, the grainy picture, the feeling that you were seeing something you weren't supposed to. I remember watching *Sleepaway Camp* for the first time on a fuzzy CRT TV in the basement, and that ending… that final reveal… it messed me up for weeks. The ending of this movie has that same energy. It feels like it wants to mess you up. It feels like it wants to leave a scar.
The atmosphere is thick with the smell of popcorn butter and hairspray. It’s not a clean movie. It’s sticky. It feels like you need a shower just from watching it, but you also know the dirt won't wash off. The aesthetic is a love letter to the trashy glamour of 80s excess, where everything was too much and it was never enough.
The Plot: Style Over Substance?
But honestly, was the plot even… good? Like, if you strip away the gorgeous cinematography and the killer soundtrack, what's left? It’s pretty straightforward, right? Girl wants to be a star, a killer is on her tail. A revenge story wrapped in neon. I thought I was following it, but now that I'm typing this out… I don't know. The killer's motive felt a bit thin, didn't it? Or was I just too distracted by the incredible visuals to care? The narrative is simple, almost basic, a thin thread to hang these heavy, bloody beads of gore upon. In the moment, in that dark theater with the booming sound, it was terrifying. It worked. The simplicity let the visuals scream. But now? My brain is trying to piece it together and it feels like it's holding smoke. Maybe that's the point. Maybe the story is just the hook to hang the style on. A minimalist frame for a maximalist painting.
The Creative Gore
And the gore. Oh my god, the gore. It's not just jump scares. It’s… creative. It’s nasty. It’s the kind of stuff that makes the whole theater audience gasp and then laugh nervously, like "Did we really just see that?" It’s over-the-top, pushing the boundaries of what can be shown on screen. It’s not just blood; it’s color. It’s paint. It’s a ballet of violence.
The kills are inventive, almost playful in their cruelty. It’s the kind of gore that makes you wince and then grin, ashamed of your own curiosity. I saw this one dude in the row in front of me literally hide behind his hands. I get it, man. I get it. It's so over-the-top it becomes almost beautiful. A horrible, disgusting, ballet of violence. It elevates the gross into something artistic, which is a dangerous and brilliant line to walk.
Production Notes
| Category | Details / Estimates |
|---|---|
| Director | Ti West |
| Aspect Ratio | 4:3 (Vintage feel) |
| Film Stock | 16mm (Grainy texture) |
| Visual Effects Code | Code: "NEON_BLEED" |
| Sound Design | Analog Synthesizers / Industrial Noise |
The Cinema Experience: An Event
I feel gross. But like, in a good way? I feel like I need to take a shower and then immediately watch it again. The theater was sticky, the floor was covered in soda, but it was the perfect place to see it. You need that huge screen to appreciate the way they shot the Hollywood sign at night, all bathed in fog, looking like a gateway to hell. You need that massive sound system for the synthesizer score to crawl under your skin. Watching this at home on a laptop would be a crime. It would lose all its power. It would just be… a weird movie. In the cinema, it’s an event. A ritual. We sat there in the dark, collectively flinching as Mia Goth plunged a stiletto heel into an eye, and we were all baptized in that neon blood together.
The Cast
| Role | Name | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Maxine "X" Minx | Mia Goth | The Starlet / The Monster / Iconic. |
| The Killer | Unknown / Supernatural force | The persistent shadow / The Punisher. |
| Director | Garrison | The Enabler / The Victim. |
The Neon Landscape: Competitors
X stands alone in its specific brand of neon-soaked madness, but it shares DNA with films that blur the line between arthouse horror and glamorous cinema.
| Competitor | Platform / Year | Why it's a Rival |
|---|---|---|
| The Neon Demon | 2016 (Panos Cosmatos) | The Neon Nightmare. While *The Neon Demon* was a love story, *X* is a hate story to the camera, but both bathe in the same blinding, toxic fluorescence. |
| Beyond the Valley of the Dolls | 2007 (Greg Araki) | The Arthouse aesthetic. X pushes the boundaries of taste much like Araki does, using the female body as a canvas for grotesque art. |
| Suspiria | 1977 (Dario Argento) | The Technicolor Giallo. X borrows the vibrant, dreamlike colors and the surreal descent into madness from Argento's masterpiece. |
Conclusion: A Scrambled Mess
I don't know. My brain is just a scrambled mess of images. A stiletto heel through an eye. A chase scene down the Walk of Fame. Mia Goth's face, staring directly into my soul, daring me to look away. I'm probably going to have nightmares about film reels for a week. It's loud, it's dumb, it's brilliant, it's disgusting. I loved it. I think. Whatever. I need a drink. A very, very strong drink.
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