demonlover

REVIEW
Unfairly maligned at its controversial 2002 Cannes fest premiere, demonlover has subsequently been passionately embraced by many critics (it appeared on a wealth of 2003 ten-best film lists), and—after an all too brief theatrical release—the film is ripe for rediscovery on home video, where its long-term cult status is assured. A sleek, high-tech neo-noir thriller centered on the world of internet porn, Demonlover marks a sinister change of pace for acclaimed French filmmaker Olivier Assayas (Irma Vep), yet it also displays his fascination for complex relationships rife with miscommunication and duplicity, and the chaos that lies beneath the ordered surface of life. Set within the realm of internet pornography sales, Demonlover follows corporate mole Diane (Connie Nielsen) as she takes drastic steps to secure her company’s stake in everything from Japanese adult anime, to interactive online torture and fetishism. Set in Tokyo and Paris — with a cast speaking English, French, and Japanese—Assayas’ film unfolds amidst a series of sleekly anonymous ultra-modern locales—luxury hotel rooms, antiseptic office complexes, trendy nightclubs, et al — as Diane delves deeper into the world of industrial sabotage and intrigue, dealing with a duplicitous assistant (Chloe Sevigny), a brash American competitor (Gina Gershon), and her own morally lax colleague (Charles Berling). With its icy perspective on Americans and Europeans immersed in Japanese culture, Demonlover could almost be the malicious counterpart to Lost in Translation, but Assayas faced much criticism for steering his film into narratively elliptical waters that left some viewers confused and hostile. But for those with a taste for more experimental and hypnotic filmmaking, Demonlover — driven by a bleakly beautiful visual style and a droning Sonic Youth score — is a brilliant piece of work from a major filmmaker.