Velvet Buzzsaw Review (Film, 2019)

Satirizing the art world is hard. People outside of it think they have a lot to say about it because a banana duct taped to a wall can make headlines. Visual art is not my area of expertise as a writer, though I try my best to approach it with an open mind.

Velvet Buzzsaw does not have that mindset. The intent is to burn the whole thing down, sometimes literally, and the results are at least a novel framework for a paranormal slasher film.

What are the ingredients of an effective slasher? You need the lore, the why and how of a killer’s motive. You need visually interesting locations where you can lose track of yourself very easily. You need a large cast of characters just distinct enough to be remembered when their time comes. And you need to feel like the people who meet their untimely demise deserve it.

Velvet Buzzsaw is the graphic, pseudo-intellectual slasher no one asked for and it delivers that in spades. Writer/director Dan Gilroy has a solid angle on a horror mainstay and it works as a slasher. I think it fails at its satirical aims, but that shallow satire is what allows the characters in the film to be awful enough to make their obsession-driven deaths entertaining.

All I can gather about the aim of the satire (and it casts a wide net) is everyone in art is awful. Critics are driven by attention and a false sense of superiority. Everyone else is driven by money. The artworks people are drawn to are terrible and derivative, and the critic has the final say in what people decide they actually like. No one has a mind of their own and everyone is awful. The end.

Is there anything new or surprising in that paragraph? Nope. Even the weird art people obsess over is nothing new. Gilroy really takes issue with interactive installation art, which has been a very popular direction for galleries for years since the interactivity brings people in and keeps the lights on for the lesser-known masters.

It also shouldn’t surprise you that everyone dresses like a contestant on Project Runway in the early seasons, drinks to excess, and is petty about everyone who isn’t in the room at the time. There’s no new ground in any element of the satire.

It’s the familiarity that allows the paranormal slasher elements to shine so brightly in Velvet Buzzsaw. You know me. I love a good Lovecraftian tale of obsession and madness where the unseen threat might actually be real.

Josephina, an associate at the infamous Rhodora Haze’s gallery, discovers a tortured artist’s lifetime of hidden work. The artist died in front of her, and the landlord lets her know that every piece of artwork is supposed to be destroyed per the artist’s instructions. Naturally, this being a horror film, she does the exact opposite. She steals the art and shares it with renowned art critic Morf Vandewalt (and anyone else who will look at it). Josephina instantly rises up the ranks of fame and stardom as Vetril Dease’s posthumous gallery debut is the biggest sensation in the art world. Yet somehow, one by one, anyone who has anything to do with the sale of Dease’s work dies in increasingly horrible ways, surrounded by the precious artwork they chose to profit from against his explicit final wishes.

This film is wild. I stand by my initial reaction on Twitter.

This film has everything and nothing. At least it reaches for something, even if everything it tries to take on can’t stick.

Jake Gyllenhaal is way too convincing as fey art critic and it boy Morf Vendewalt. The body language borders on offensive, a limp wrist portrait of queer masculinity. He’s permanently reaching for a nasty little quip to cut everyone else down and, refreshingly, isn’t afraid to say it to someone’s face. Morf is the worst over the top caricature in Velvet Buzzsaw, but Gyllenhaal makes him the most believable character by the end.

Toni Colette is a riot as Gretchen, a museum curator turned private buyer. Complete with a bleach blonde chin length bob and affected kisses, Colette elevates every scene she’s in from an interesting gag into something essential. She is the purveyor of all knowledge of buyers and trends in the industry, including the intimate personal details of people she tries to keep under her control. She’s the friend who can and will destroy your life to prove that she has your best interest at heart. You really do need to know what that other person said about you and she will gladly let you know. You also don’t have a say; Gretchen says what she wants, when she wants to, and she always gets her way.

Rene Russo steals the film as the infamous Rhodora Haze. Haze is the most powerful person in the art world, unwilling to pull any punches as she fights to stay on top. You rise to her level or you fall into obscurity. Russo doesn’t break a sweat, even as the art world collapses around her. You just can’t take your eyes off of her. She’s playing champion level chess while everyone else showed up for a round of Candyland. Sure, they’re all having fun hamming it up, but she is operating on another level.

The artwork in the film is a riot. The art direction of Christa Munro and Allison Sadler combined with the set direction of Jan Pascale and David Smith is equal parts impressive and ridiculous. An animatronic, panhandling Uncle Sam declares “I can’t save you” as people stand in line to take selfies with the fall of American ambition. Morf has a psychotic episode in an interactive sound installation that is, quite literally, a foam padded room with a door that locks from the outside. I really do believe this artwork could be showcased as the next big thing in a modern gallery. The art in the film is far better researched than the satire.

Velvet Buzzsaw is a great paranormal slasher film hanging on for dear life to some very tame and unfocused satire that was tired while Andy Warhol was alive. Even if your patience for the art world depicted in the film runs thin, your reaction to the big set pieces will probably draw you back in. The whole pictures is an unintentional throwback to the morality of the 80s slasher, only these characters’ crimes are being just the most insufferable art world stereotypes you can imagine.

Velvet Buzzsaw is currently streaming on Netflix.