Babylon
2022 appears to be the year of making films about cinema itself, from Steven Spielberg’s The Fabelmans to Sam Mendes’ Empire of Light. Days shy of the new year, Damien Chazelle’s Babylon arrives in theaters, tackling the subject in a far more audacious and unexpected manner. Quite the diametrical opposite of Chazelle’s romantic love letter to Hollywood’s heyday La La Land, Babylon is an unabashed portrait of the notorious Tinseltown- filthy and exploitative in nature but its creations, unmatched in power and spectacle. The film chronicles the ensemble cast of Manny Torres (Diego Calva) and Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie) chasing their dreams of making it big in the industry as well as an already successful but fading movie star in Brad Pitt’s Jack Conrad. The trio navigates the monster that is movie-making as the larger-than-life machine chews them up and spits them out over the course of the decade-long transition from silent films to “talkies”. Coming in at three hours, the epic that is Babylon earns its runtime and executes its grandiosity with sweeping production design, manic direction, and jubilant sound design.
Cutting straight to the chase, Margot Robbie is electric. Her energy is bursting from the screen, almost tangible. Her precision and control over her performance despite her character’s erratic behavior are apparent scene after scene as she continuously one-ups herself over the course of the film. Robbie is brilliantly juxtaposed with the level-headed Calva whose charm is undeniable. Personifying the dreamer in all of us, Calva makes a compelling protagonist. At least to the best of his abilities with what he is given in the script.
The screenplay, also written by Chazelle, lacks a constant presence of emotional depth. For a film that runs for as long as it does, it seems irresponsible that it could not carve out some time for more development. Development that would have enhanced an already cathartic finale. Instead, the film spends more time observing stuff that happens to our cast of characters—reducing them to vehicles that witness the horrors of Hollywood's past. What characterization does exist can be attributed to the excellent performances.
Babylon’s atrocities are relentless from the opening frames of elephant dung all the way to the final act involving an underground sex dungeon. Yes, at times it does appear as performative. But as staggering as the acts are, it’s astonishing to have a director helm a film of this caliber and be able to go the distance. Chazelle pushes the limits of filmmaking within every facet of Babylon.
An intoxicated Nellie LaRoy, played by an equally intoxicating Margot Robbie, at a party of excess and extravagance.
His direction and camera work are befitting of the hectic events transpiring on the screen. At the excessive mansion party at the start of the film, Chazelle is unafraid to mount the challenge of long tracking shots in face of all the moving parts within the massive event. Chazelle’s intricate blocking and staging place the audience in the thick of all the chaos. The use of wide lenses and meticulous lighting beautifully translates the palatial parties and sprawling film sets of the 1920s to the screen. By creating these arresting images through the lighting design, cinematographer Linus Sandgren accurately constructs an engrossing depiction of the period; staying true to the intense sun of the desert or the dim ambiance of the “festivities” but never at the expense of the viewer. Between the talent behind the camera to the detailed artistry on display through the costuming and production design, the audio-visual experience is enrapturing, to say the least.
Babylon’s editing is a character in and of itself with its comedic flair and ability to morph into whatever the film requires at that specific moment. In what easily could’ve been a hack job of disorienting cuts and transitions, editor Tom Cross displays control by knowing when to reflect the frenetic energy of Babylon within its editing and when to linger for emotional effect.
It wouldn’t be a true Damien Chazelle film without frequent collaborator Justin Hurwitz scoring the film. And like the rest of Chazelle’s filmography, Babylon is paired with an outstanding score - mainly comprised of jaunty horns, a full set of drums, and at times a clapping symphony. Certainly a departure from any of Hurwitz’s previous film work but it reflects the turbulent essence of the film and sound of the era.
More than just a declaration of the power of film, Babylon is a cautionary tale of ambition and dreams - continuing the thread of similar themes found in Chazelle’s prior films. Furthermore, Chazelle contemplates the existential nature of creation and legacy. What exactly is it that leave behind when we fade into anonymity and what does that look like? Margot Robbie and Diego Calva expand upon their characters that otherwise have little to no characterization in the script - a missed opportunity for creating more of an emotional impact throughout the film. Nonetheless, Chazelle’s ravaging display of Hollywood exploitation and gluttony is still a heartfelt testament to film lovers everywhere and through the cast, he challenges how far we’re willing to go to make that dream come true. For all of Babylon’s grotesque extravagance, Chazelle strips the film back to its core in its final moments for a surreal experience sure to leave you feeling both inspired and insignificant. Maybe disoriented too. As bleak as the thought may be, much like the fading stars and silent films of the 20s, one can’t help but feel whilst watching that the big-budget production of such bold and unapologetic films might be headed down the same path.
Verdict: A frenetic, filthy romp, Damien Chazelle’s music-like approach to directing makes Babylon an assured Nick Pick.