BLISS / CERT: 18 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: JOE BEGOS / STARRING: DORA MADISON, TRU COLLINS, RHYS WAKEFIELD, JEREMY GARDNER / RELEASE: OUT NOW
Conceptual artist Dezzy Donahue (Madison) is struggling to complete her latest large canvas commission, and finds herself dropped by her irritated agent. Broke and on the verge of being thrown out of her loft apartment by her impatient landlord, Dezzy looks for some respite from the pressures in her life. She parties hard, enjoying an excess of alcohol, drugs, and intense sexual encounters.
But while Bliss begins with a voyeuristic celebration of Bohemian hedonism, it quickly shifts into far darker and more unsettling territory. When Dezzy starts to experiment with the more hardcore merchandise in her dealer’s inventory, and falls in with some of the scene’s more freaky associates, things turn serious. As she suffers blackouts, and what appear to be horrifying hallucinations of vampiric murder, she is gripped by paranoia. Yet with the passing of each debauched evening, new yearning human silhouettes are mysteriously added to her unfinished painting. Adrift from the everyday moorings in her life, Dezzy’s own appetites become ever more extreme.
Bliss sets aside most of the usual narrative conventions of the horror movie, to favour the ‘sensory experience’ of its transgressive setting over the narrow concerns of plot. Writer-director Joe Begos shows no interest in making any of his characters likeable. As there’s no one for the audience to root for, all attention can be focused on the bucketloads of weird unfolding on screen. If the distinctions between fantasy, dreams, and reality are not always evident to the viewer, that is also clearly Begos’ intention. This far-from-derivative endeavour benefits from some assured cinematography, suitably frenetic editing and a carefully crafted and edgy soundscape.
But the entire movie ultimately pivots on what’s a hugely demanding performance by Dora Madison in the role of Dezzy. The young actor endured a pretty tough shoot. She’s frequently seen in various stages of undress, covered from head to foot in gore, and shown in the throes of manic intoxication, or fragile and shattered in its aftermath. As she observes on one of the disc’s three audio commentaries, she’s often depicted “looking like shit” in close-up. Hers is a commendably committed presence, which sees her buy in fully to her director’s aspirations.
The notion of the artist who can only be truly creative under the influence of pharmacology and indulgent excess is not new. Neither is the premise of a dealer with super-powerful new merchandise; nor that of a bloodthirsty cabal of vampires seducing new recruits. So Bliss has to stand or fall on the strength of its realisation of a psychologically-deranged artist battling their (literal and figurative) demons. It’s certainly a pretty intense eighty-minute ride through the darker corners of addiction and compulsion, but it ends up being a film more likely to be experienced than savoured by most viewers.
