Even
tortured-soul Brooklyn artists have to buy groceries and pay rent on their Taj
Mahal-sized lofts, but apparently not Norman. He has the luxury of focusing on
his own destructive excesses. We hardly ever see him creating his self-absorbed
installations, so being a father to his baby boy Caleb is obviously a
non-starter. Norman’s anguished ego takes precedence over everything else in
Peter Brunner’s To the Night, which
screens during this year’s What The Fest!?.
Decades
after his parents died in a house fire (more like a mansion fire), Norman is
still emotionally hobbled by the childhood trauma. Strangely, he doesn’t really
seem to grieve for them, per se. Instead, it is all about him. Nevertheless, he
remains perversely obsessed with fire. The tragedy has deeply shaped his work,
but without any resulting cathartic effect.
Unfortunately,
this means Norman continues to binge on drugs and lash out physically, largely
without consequences. His girlfriend Penelope problematically endures his
periodic violence, presumably because she believes Caleb needs a father, but
Norman could even be a danger to him too. So, yeah, fun stuff.
Frankly,
To the Night has very little genre
elements, making it a dubious selection for What The. Clearly, Brunner wants to
show us the world through Norman’s warped perspective, but instead of
psychedelic Mad Hatter crazy, he is drunk-stoned-angry-self-loathing demented,
which is a darker and drearier proposition altogether.
That
said, enormous credit must be granted to Caleb Landry Jones for his scary
ferocious commitment playing Norman. He is so harrowingly convincing portraying
all his rage benders, strung-out brooding, and mental collapses, he runs the
risk of forever alienating everyone who has this film burnt onto their corneas.
Likewise, Eleonore Hendricks looks believably and distressingly terrified most
of the time.
