
  Review by
        Eric Hillis
  Directed by: Ti West
  Starring: Mia Goth, Elizabeth Debicki, Moses Sumney, Michelle Monaghan, Bobby Cannavale, Lily
      Collins, Halsey, Giancarlo Esposito, Kevin Bacon
 
    
  With 2022's
    X, Ti West delivered a successful homage to hicksploitation thrillers
    like The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Eaten Alive and Motel Hell. Hicksploitation is one of the easier sub-genres to imitate as all you
    need are some good-looking young folk to be butchered by redneck
    grotesqueries. That said, many filmmakers have tried and failed to emulate
    this simple formula, with only X and Devereux Milburn's
    underseen
    Honeydew
    managing to pull it off in recent years.

  Following his WWI era prequel
    Pearl, West now delivers a direct sequel to X in
    Maxxxine, which catches up with Mia Goth's Maxine Minx, the pornstar
    survivor of X's night of terror, in the Hollywood of 1985. Once again West is playing in
    a nostalgic sandbox, this time triggering memories of those lurid Hollywood
    thrillers of the '80s: movies like Ken Russell's
    Crimes of Passion, Robert Vincent O'Neil's Angel and Gary Sherman's
    Vice Squad. If you were hoping this might be West's
    Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, you'll be disappointed to find it's his
    Last Night in Soho, a hollow piece of cosplay that is somehow more regressive than the
    decades old movies it's homaging/pastiching.
  The movie opens with a montage of (largely anachronistic for its 1985
    setting) news clips in the vein of Ben Affleck's
    Air
    that takes us back to the "Satanic Panic" of the era and reminds us how Los
    Angeles was terrorised by the serial killer known as "The Night Staker." In
    this fraught milieu we find Maxine attempting to make the unlikely leap from
    porn to mainstream cinema. She manages to achieve this with a successful
    audition for a horror sequel, "The Puritan II," in which she impresses the
    director, Elizabeth Bender (Elizabeth Debicki), with her ruthless
    determination. Maxine's potential rise is tempered by her fellow pornstars
    being bumped off as each of them is lured to a mansion in the Hollywood
    hills by a mysterious "out of town producer." Maxine finds herself being
    stalked by a figure dressed like the killer from Mario Bava's
    Blood and Black Lace, along with a sleazy private eye (Kevin Bacon, sporting a Jake
    Gittes ensemble and even ending up with a plaster over his nose at one
    point) who has been hired by someone from her past.

  Where West easily nailed the simple look and feel of redneck horror he only
    manages to replicate the look of '80s thrillers here.
    Maxxxine looks the part with its neon-soaked Hollywood
    Boulevard and sinister mansions in the Hollywood hills, but it never feels
    like the sort of movies it's in thrall to. Distanced from the era it's
    attempting to replicate, Maxxxine lacks the anti-Reagan anger
    that fuelled many of these films. I recall watching movies like
    Angel and Crimes of Passion as a kid and while I
    couldn't grasp their political context, I knew I was watching something that
    contradicted everything the powers that be of the era were telling me was
    correct. Angel was one of the first films to feature a trans
    character in a positive light, while Crimes of Passion dared
    to portray sex work as something liberating while mocking the hypocrisy of
    the church. By contrast, Maxxxine is oddly regressive in how
    it posits its pornstars as a group of narcissistic social climbers while it
    portrays the police in a positive light despite history providing plenty of
    evidence of American law enforcement's disdain for sex workers in this era.
    Perhaps what's most odd about Maxxxine is its complete lack of
    acknowledgment of the AIDS crisis, given how it's set in the world of sex
    work.
  West also struggles to eke out a satisfying narrative. There are nods to
    the influence of the German Krimi and Italian Giallo genres, but only
    superficially. Krimis and Gialli were essentially lurid updates of Agatha
    Christie whodunits, setting up various characters as the potential killer.
    West never does this here. There's never any question that anyone around
    Maxine might be responsible for the murders, so we're robbed of the fun of
    trying to guess who's doin' it. When the killer's identity is finally
    revealed, it only adds to the regressive nature of the film's take on
    porn/horror vs Christianity. In interviews West has been keen to point out
    how he's on the side of the former, but his film leaves you with some
    doubts.

  It's a shame Maxxxine is such an empty experience as it's
    anchored by a tremendous performance by Goth as the sort of determined '80s
    woman who views Madonna's 'Material Girl' as a philosophical tract. There
    are fun side performances, especially Debicki, who plays her tough British
    director as though she's the villain of the week on Columbo. But to evoke the name of a great giallo from 1985, there's simply
    "Nothing Underneath" the neon coating here. The most interesting genre
    filmmakers use genre as a means to an end, but like Eli Roth, for West genre
    is the end. He seems to care not so much about the sand, only the sandbox,
    and his latest film is as superficial and vacuous as the infamous decade in
    which it takes place.
 

