Her Smell (2018)

Her Smell review by Mark McPherson - Cinema Paradiso

Elizabeth Moss is quickly becoming the most notable actress who can turn running eye makeup into an art form. From her big beginnings on Mad Men, she has thrown herself into roles where she transforms into an emotional and vicious mess, from her explosive rage in Queen of Earth to her slasher appeal in Jordan Peele’s Us. Here she is once more in a film where her very presence dominates every scene, song and even the general ambiance in her characters swirling mind of drugs and rock.

Moss plays punk rocker Becky, the troubled lead singer of the band Something She. On the stage, she is seen as a rock legend that can amp up a crowd. Backstage, however, she’s a mess. Her mood swings cause her to dip between fits of violence, laughter, and depression. She surrounds herself with a shaman that believes will help her cut out the toxic elements of her life. Her husband and baby girl are present to painfully watching Becky bicker and babble in her desperation for some deeper meaning to her life. She finds herself slipping in and out of consciousness, transforming into a staggering mess of talent tainted in black and glittery eye shadow.

The film keeps its hallucinogenic edge by taking a somewhat non-linear approach to the story. Several times the film will jump around in time, switching to the 4:3 format to showcase the brighter days when Something She was on the rise. Those were happier times that are approached in bits and pieces. As the film goes on, we watch as Becky tries to grow older and wiser, putting aside most of her party and bohemian lifestyle to start over. Thus begins a quiet move to reorder herself, focus on her daughter and learn to sing a simpler tune.

Director Alex Ross Perry does an astounding job turning Becky’s life into a troubling haze. Her many backstage appearances have an interesting sound mixture of haunting horns and constant shuffling in the distance, as though there is a constant knocking on a door within Becky’s mind. Everything feels louder and more intense as most things do at a concert but with an added anxiety in Becky’s mood swings. Later, when she is residing at home in a more docile state, everything seems content and quiet with a gentle edge. The colors are less sharp and Becky’s many talks with her daughter have a calm sensation.

There are a few moments where we take a step back from Becky to observe those around her who do so little. Some try to help and are met with harsh criticisms. Others simply do little more than stand back and let Becky lavish them with attention and love because of how much power she wields. Ultimately, nobody is coming to save her; the change she needs come from within and comes about in the most fluid of ways.

Her Smell has such a personal appeal in its familiar story of the rise and fall and rise again of a rock star. Neglecting easy scenes, the film favors the more awkward and tough-to-watch moments with a heart all its own. The camera gets close enough to be entirely within Becky’s head and try to understand her vice and blind search for fulfillment. By keeping the audience locked within this perspective, there’s a certain unspoken understanding of trying to find purpose. And it’s that focus which makes Her Smell a uniquely engaging experience past the usual rock star vice story.