Under the Silver Lake (2018): all cult, with a hint of classic

★★★★ 1/2

As a self-proclaimed journalist, I feel it's important to disclose my biases when I write. So, I think it's only fair to start by saying that I'm writing this review after not my first, but my fourth viewing of "Under the Silver Lake", David Robert Mitchell's 2018 LA neo-noir. It's one of my favorite movies of all time, and I've wanted a reason to write about it since I first watched it. When I revisited it this past weekend, I realized it didn't matter that I wasn't writing this with fresh eyes- because it's the kind of movie that reveals something new to you with each viewing.

"Under the Silver Lake" follows Sam, a jaded, unemployed 30-something, played by a charming but disaffected Andrew Garfield, as he navigates the bizarre paths between the glittery and the gritty of Los Angeles. Sam meets Sarah, a beautiful young woman played with incredible mystery by Riley Keough, after watching her in their apartment complex's pool, and spends a platonic night with her before she vanishes, leaving nothing in her apartment but a shoebox of personal items and a strange symbol painted on the wall. From there, Sam makes it his mission to locate Sarah, and in the process untangles a web of codes, laid out in plain sight in music, movies, and advertisements, made by and for the ultra elite only.

What Works:

With "Under the Silver Lake", location is everything. There is nowhere that this story could take place other than Los Angeles, a city simultaneously on display and shrouded in mystery, a place where everyone is so strange and desperate for individualism that no one stands out. For this particular story, it creates the perfect backdrop- the place itself is just as out of touch with reality as the protagonist who investigates the disappearance of a woman he's known for only a few hours. Sam's odyssey through the City of Angels brings him to: an indie movie premiere in a graveyard, a concert that requires an acid-laced cookie as an invitation, a pool party where the main activity is chess...I could go on. As you follow Sam on his journey through these eccentric locales, you start to become less and less surprised with every new clue he finds, to the point where, when he finally discovers the billionaire cult entombing themselves beneath Mt. Hollywood with young women in the hopes that they'll become gods, you just shrug and think, "if it was gonna happen anywhere, I guess it would be here."

The shadiness of Los Angeles is enhanced only by the noir filmmaking techniques that David Robert Mitchell employs. In "Under the Silver Lake", David Robert Mitchell takes a genre that calls to mind some of the most iconic scenes in film history and makes it completely his own. Sam is the modern version of the hard-boiled detective we know well: he has women but they don't compel him, he doesn't know what he lives for and therefore risks everything for the truth, he is cynical of the world around him- and more often than not he's right to be. Existential conflict is at the core of "Under the Silver Lake" as it is all classic noir films- in fact, Sam's voyeurism and feeling of observing the world from his own mundane life is not unlike the plot of Hitchcock's Rear Window.

Of course, none of this would matter if Andrew Garfield's performance weren't so masterful. As the character we spend the most time with by far, Sam is a mystery in his own right. He's quiet verging on unsettling, he's manic and obsessive, and he's just plain weird- yet as an audience member, you find yourself rooting for him. While Mitchell's script does set Sam up as David against an entire city of Goliaths, armed only with a map from a cereal box and a handgun, Garfield endears us to Sam in a way that is unexpectedly delightful. Sam in the hands of another actor may have simply become an off-putting incel, creepily obsessed with a girl he doesn't know (and there's a nugget of truth in that description as well), but Garfield pairs his reclusive, voyeuristic behavior with a shy charm that assures us that out of the two parties at play, he's the good guy.

What Doesn't:

Of course, no great thing can be perfect, and it's an unfortunate but expected truth that some of the questions "Under the Silver Lake" raises are left unanswered. One of these being the inclusion of the enigmatic Songwriter. Jeremy Bobb gives an astonishing performance in his short time onscreen. Uninhibited by what looks to be pounds of old age makeup on his face, he monologues both to Sam and directly to the audience with a smug, unwavering authority, as he divulges the secret that all music in popular culture was, in fact, written by him for the express purpose of conveying hidden messages to the elite. I'll admit that I come to appreciate the Songwriter more and more with each watch, but I fall in the camp of "Under the Silver Lake" enthusiasts who believe the heightened, almost supernatural nature of the Songwriter takes viewers out of the story. The brilliance of "Under the Silver Lake" has to do with the fact that even though the concept is outlandish, you could see it happening in our world. But, when the Songwriter implies that he wrote The Who's "Pinball Wizard", Joan Jett's "I Love Rock And Roll", and Beethoven's "Ode To Joy"? What was once a fantastical but still grounded plot becomes just implausible enough to upend the tenuous realism.

Another frayed end of the tangled rope that is "Under the Silver Lake" is the mystery of the dog killer. Mitchell tells us in the first shot the dog killer's identity, albeit not overtly, when Sam is pictured standing directly in front of graffiti reading BEWARE THE DOG KILLER. There are subtle clues throughout the rest of the film- the dog biscuits in his pockets, his erratic nighttime behavior, the hallucinations he has of women barking at him- and though I appreciate a director who trusts his audience's intelligence, I do wish there was one more clue in the dog killer saga. Wrapped up in Sam's discovery of the cult, the dog killer plot feels abandoned at times, only truly resolving itself when Sarah suggests that Sam get a new dog to quell his loneliness. The implication, it seems, is that the murder of dogs was an outlet for anger at his ex-girlfriend, who we meet only briefly and without detail towards the end of the film. I wonder if we had more context on their relationship if Sam's double life as the dog killer would shift more into focus. Again, I wouldn't say this element doesn't work as much as I'd say it feels incomplete.

Final Thoughts:

If you got to the end of this review having never seen "Under the Silver Lake", you're probably thinking one of two things.

1. This sounds insane- I'm in!

2. Why would anyone watch something so incomprehensible?

Like anything, "Under the Silver Lake" isn't for everyone, but in a world where media has become increasingly simple and created for escapism, I recommend it to anyone who enjoys a challenge. Who is eager to think critically about the media they consume. "Under the Silver Lake" is a compelling foray into the lives of the exceedingly rich and famous that most people will never even come close to understanding. We wait on the edge of our seats at Sam pulls back layer after layer because we admit we're curious too- could this all actually be going on right under our noses? The reality of the situation is that it's all probably much worse.

The meaning of the film is stated plainly and unassumingly, not from our anti-hero Sam, or his Marilyn Monroe reincarnated love interest, but instead from an unnamed drinking pal of Sam's who drops a bomb of truth while the two mindlessly play an old video game.

"Used to be- a hundred years ago- y'know, any moron could kinda wander into the woods and look behind a rock or some shit and discover some cool new thing, y'know? Not anymore. Where's the mystery that makes everything worthwhile? We crave mystery, 'cause there's none left."

Think about the last time you had a true mystery in your life, the last time you actually stood at the edge of a cliff, staring out into the void. Now ask yourself if you wouldn't do exactly the same as Sam. After all, what do you have to lose?