Starry Eyes

This will be a hard review to write, because this is a hard movie to explain without giving things away. Starry Eyes, ostensibly, is about the price of fame, and how much of that price one is willing to pay. Sarah is an aspiring actress. She works at a breastaurant (where the theme is, of all things, potatoes) and hates it. The first time we see her, she is standing in front of the mirror in her underwear, pinching at the flesh on her waist and seeing non-existent fat, looking at her breasts and butt and body in disapproval. She can't seem to get a break, and all her friends keep talking about making an indie movie, but nobody actually does anything except hang out and drink beer. She goes on an audition, it goes poorly, and she goes to the bathroom and has a nervous breakdown ... except one of the casting agents overhears it and calls her back in. I'm going to stop right there, because it goes places. A LOT of places. There is a lot of metaphor in this movie, and while it isn't the most subtle, a lot of it is stuff I can't think of another movie really tackling. Yeah, sure, there's sleazy "what would you do for this part" stuff, which, as uncomfortable as it is, is necessary to the plot, believe it or not. But then there's one of Sarah's friends, Erin, who is constantly making catty, insulting remarks that she thinks are just a joke, but show the way the industry can pit women against one another. And while Sarah's friends are kind of lazy millennial stereotypes, they also serve a purpose: most of them are still friends and support Sarah's ambitions ... but she begins to feel like they may be albatrosses. It asks the question if who you are is defined by who you associate with, and if the perceived value one gets from that association has value to that person or not. Basically, is it worth having a loser friend if it puts off the perception you're a loser too, or is the friendship more valuable and your value should be driven by you alone? It's a lot for this movie to explore (and there's other themes that would be spoiled by talking about the third act AT ALL), and somehow, this movie juggles it all. The direction is deft and artistic without pretension. When it needs to evoke a mood, the camera and the lighting and the blocking work just as much as the acting and script does. You will feel what Sarah feels before the third act kicks in, partially because of the amazing direction. But the other half of it is Alexandra Essoe in the lead role of Sarah. She manages to capture and convey so many emotions, often without words; self-loathing, disillusionment, shame, joy, determination, jealousy, fear. She made this movie when she was 21, and she has the acting chops of someone with double that many years in the business. The range Sarah goes through is huge, and the transformation by the end is astonishing, and Alexandra shows the kind of acting that, if the Academy Awards didn't look down their noses at horror, would earn this woman a nomination. I'm dead serious. I can't say much more about this movie, because the third act really has to be seen without any knowledge. It's breathtaking, it's uncomfortable, it's disheartening, and it will leave you on the edge of your seat. This is the kind of movie that more people need to be talking about. This deserves to be heralded among the best horror movies of the 2010's. Seriously. It's that damned good.