Ti West’s X Trilogy: From divine horror success to “MaXXXine” conclusion.

Trilogies pose a formidable challenge. Achieving success once in filmmaking is a feat, but achieving it across three films where each complements and builds upon the last is akin to divine intervention. This challenge is particularly amplified in the horror genre, where great trilogies are rare and prized. Unlike other genres, horror retains elements of cinema’s attraction-based past, drawing audiences into darkened theaters with the promise of profoundly unsettling experiences that linger long after the credits roll.

Achieving success once in the horror genre takes considerable talent, but doing so three times in a row is an extraordinary accomplishment. Creating three installments of a horror series that are distinct enough to stand alone yet cohesive enough to form a unified whole is a daunting task. Ti West and his collaborators confront this challenge boldly with the X trilogy. While the trilogy-capping “MaXXXine“ may not entirely meet expectations, it remains consistently entertaining and compelling to witness.

5. MaXXXimal Filmmaking

With “X,” Ti West and his team immersed viewers in a film deeply steeped in the gritty ’70s aesthetic, blending elements of low-budget horror with adult film sensibilities. Transitioning to “Pearl,” they skillfully crafted a vibrant, Technicolor experience reminiscent of the whimsical delights from the 1940s, evoking the spirit of Powell and Pressburger. Now, with “MaXXXine,” West and his collaborators boldly delve into the excess and lunacy-driven style of the 1980s, fully embracing its over-indulgent ethos.

In an era where ’80s nostalgia has already had its moment, “MaXXXine” emerges like an irrepressible overdose. With the largest budget of the trilogy, production designer Jason Kisvarday meticulously reconstructs a glamorous yet debaucherous Hollywood of the 1980s. The results are breathtaking, a testament to the filmmaking prowess evident throughout the entire film. “MaXXXine” stands as a triumphant victory lap following the successes of “X” and “Pearl,” granting Ti West unprecedented access to Hollywood’s resources. From expansive soundstage sets to A-list co-stars and elaborate lighting setups, the film showcases West and his team at the peak of their creative powers.

The outcome is a wonderfully maximalist piece of filmmaking, where every dollar spent translates directly onto the screen. Ti West and cinematographer Eliot Rockett craft an immersive and visually stunning experience. “MaXXXine” authentically embodies the ’80s aesthetic, overflowing with nostalgia, and it’s immensely satisfying to witness West harness these tools to capture something so deeply personal and beloved to him.

4. The Big-Name Scenery-Chewers

As mentioned, with its much larger budget, “MaXXXine” also has a whole host of big-name stars who pop up throughout the film, all of whom seem to be having an infectious blast while doing so. Everyone from Lily Collins to Bobby Cannavale to Michelle Monaghan to Halsey turns up in roles of varying sizes and leaves their mark, but the true MVPs, in my opinion, are Kevin Bacon, Giancarlo Esposito, and Elizabeth Debicki.

Bacon is in the film a substantial bit more than I initially assumed he would be, and it is wonderful to see an actor as entrenched in audiences’ collective consciousness show up and remind us exactly why he’s so well-known in the first place. As a private eye with questionable morals, Bacon exudes sleaze and devours every morsel of dialogue he’s given. Esposito is indelibly commanding as something of a parody of the cliché Hollywood agent character archetype, and threatens to steal the show every time he shows up. And Debicki’s performance is easily the most reserved and understated of the bunch, but that winds up working in her favor. There’s a quiet intensity to her conversations with Mia Goth’s Maxine. Her character is ultimately saddled with spouting off some of the film’s biggest themes, and what could have easily sounded hack in another performer’s hands plays with gravitas from Debicki.

3. WEAK SPOT: The Passive Tale of Maxine Minx

So what’s wrong with “MaXXXine?” I’ve already talked about how much I enjoyed the filmmaking craft on display, and I’m going to praise both Mia Goth’s lead performance and Ti West’s direction. But what doesn’t work for me about the film? Sadly, it’s the story.

For as gloriously indulgent and well-crafted as much of “MaXXXine” is, it is ultimately in service of a story that never comes together. By overtly embracing the ‘80s aesthetic and setting, Ti West’s script intertwines various real-world ‘80s elements into the story, from Satanic Panic to the Night Stalker. Unfortunately, this approach is ultimately to the detriment of the film, as it never really develops a coherent narrative of its own. These various threads lead to a fracturing and fragmentation of the plot.

The biggest casualty of all of this is Maxine Minx herself. The titular character is left entirely passive within her own film, burdened with a story that doesn’t embrace the central conflict of want vs. need at the heart of her internal journey across the trilogy. Instead, MaXXXine leaves the character stranded, not playing an active role in her own story. She spends most of the film willfully ignoring the story beats unfolding around her, and the climax quite literally sees her tied up and uninvolved in every single action beat that plays out.

By the time the film reaches its conclusion, it can’t help but feel deflating.

2. Mia Goth’s Performance

Having said all of that, Mia Goth continues to deliver an incredible performance as Maxine Minx even under these circumstances. I wish she had been given a greater chance to shine through involvement in the actual story here, but Goth so thoroughly and articulately elevates what she is given that it remains astounding.

For what it’s worth, I found Goth to be incredible in her dual role in X and even better in Pearl. Goth’s performance in Pearl, right down to its final shot, is absolutely immaculate. In comparison, I don’t find her performance in “MaXXXine” to be as compelling simply because she didn’t have the same level of enthralling material to work with. However, I do absolutely adore the opening scene of “MaXXXine,” which serves as this film’s equivalent to Pearl’s final shot. In it, Goth delivers a masterclass performance and then immediately subverts it. Great stuff.

1. Ti West’s Direct and Editing

While I wish the story felt more motivated and coherent in driving toward its central themes, I would be lying if I said I didn’t thoroughly enjoy the vast majority of “MaXXXine.” Ti West, handling directorial and editing duties on his own as he did with the prior two installments, showcases his graduation to big-budget giallo-influenced ‘80s horror filmmaking while retaining the meticulous visual craft of his earlier work. West is a supremely talented filmmaker, and even if “MaXXXine” serves as a big victory lap for him, Goth, and the team behind these films, that’s fine by me. They’ve earned the right to bask in the limelight, and I genuinely hope West continues to operate at this level for future films. Having crafted great low-budget horror films for decades, seeing him play in a larger playground is undeniably enticing.

(C+)

Overall, “MaXXXine” doesn’t quite stick the landing. It feels less like a cohesive and satisfying film in its own right and more like an epilogue to the prior two films. The story lacks a driving passion and instead seems to follow the inevitable fallout from events set in motion by the earlier installments. It’s hard to argue that “MaXXXine” is the strongest of the trilogy, and viewers unfamiliar with “X” or “Pearl” may not find it satisfying on its own.

That said, despite these shortcomings, “MaXXXine” features great performances, stupendous production design, Mia Goth’s exceptional lead role, and is driven by Ti West’s phenomenal filmmaking craft. It stands as a cinema-of-attractions delight in its own right.

The first thing you will notice while watching Goyo is the sensitivity with which Marcos Carnevale has written his lead character. And this empathy is mirrored in those around him: his overprotective concert pianist sister, Saula (Soledad Villamil), his bantering brother-in-law, Matute (Pablo Rago), who never once makes him feel left out in any situation, and his colleagues, in general. Everyone in his immediate surroundings is mindful of his condition, without going as far as to make him feel uncomfortable. A sense that they’re rooting for him all the way comes through quite easily in the narrative. There’s a scene early on when Goyo follows Eva (Nancy Dupláa) to the subway in the hopes of introducing himself. It’s an anxiety-inducing sequence because it is way out of his familiar environment. It ends in Goyo literally falling out the train at a station platform and throwing up, being shown the finger by Eva (she presumes him to be a stalker). A simple act of travel by public transport, something that may seem so mechanical and run-of-the-mill for most, is given so much emphasis, as it may trigger a panic attack for somebody with Asperger’s (as it does for Goyo). Carnevale makes you think a great deal here, placing you in the shoes of someone with special needs. When her colleague is surprised to hear that Eva is going on a date with Goyo, she says, “Have you ever dated a guy who can’t lie? Who speaks his mind. Who is polite, incredibly smart, incapable of hurting you, and on top of all that, handsome? And the former’s response is, “Never in my life.” It is one of those short exchanges that encapsulates the sheer goodness of the film. Eva is in a tough spot with her family life and is aware of a positive influence when she sees one.

“Imperfection is a bitch, but perfection is a monster”

Resistance and freedom are potent triggers for art, especially and perennially for the global south. But consequently, is it possible to ever be free of ourselves? After generations of struggling, does ridding the world from society and its oppressions truly equal peace or happiness? Set in a lone dystopian city, Ishan Shukla’s animated feature debut takes these questions by the horns with urban fantasy and biopunk kicks. While beautifully executed and innovative in its statements on conformity and revolt, “Schirkoa: In Lies We Trust”’ss stickler for adhering to traditional sci-fi and hero tropes leaves it dangling in unsatisfying clichés.

In a totalitarian city-state named Schirkoa, citizens are only known by numbers and alphabets and are made to wear paper bags over their heads in perpetuity. In praise of sameness, lauded by a religious figure named Lord’O, it is against the law to see and know your own or each other’s faces. Though inert and unwilling to change, councilman 197A (Shahbaz Sarwar, Tibu Fortes) grapples with his boredom and disillusionment in the city as he is being groomed to become a nominated member of parliament. One night, a spirited encounter with a wanted immigrant and ‘Anomalie’ 33F (Soko) changes his trajectory forever, bringing him beyond the borders of the city to communities on the fringe. Where no one wears paper bags, and citizens have gradually mutated in bodily and evolutionary revolt to suppression. In an underbelly city of fantastical hybrid creatures, centaurs, mermaids, horned faeries, 197A’s journeys take him towards freedom, but also towards a new existentialism.

With a structure not unlike “1984”, “Brazil” or “Blade Runner”, pessimistic heroism and devastation form the emotional cores of “Schirkoa: In Lies We Trust”. As the title suggests, the hero’s journey is poised for despondency in our unchangeable world, in the lies we trust in order to go on. Archetypes and tropes often find good solace in genre enthusiasts, especially in this blockbuster that seems to take punchy enjoyment in its classicalism. A torrent of worldbuilding details and textures, developed using both 2D and 3D animation, create a techno feast for the eyes. The classic government announcements, monuments, neon-drenched districts simmering with unrest, meld together to create a believable and immersive city of terror. It’s all we would expect. Similarly and unfortunately on the flip side, “Schirkoa”’s predictable and rushed character arcs, expositional dialogue and emotional beats stunt its overall impact. What seemed once to be groundbreaking in the futuristic sci-fi genre, the discovery that changing the world is futile, has lost most of its spark here.

Check the interview with the director