demonlover (2002) is like later period William Gibson: it’s not about putting on the goggles and jacking into the cyberspace, but more about corporate espionage. I love French director Olivier Assayas in this mode – post-Irma Vep genre studies of women at work and under duress (see also: Boarding Gate and Personal Shopper) in a remediated globalised landscape. They play with genres and exist between states; a collision between dry talky arthouse fare and cameras tailing protagonists on the move like a Michael Mann thriller.
Here, post-Gladiator Connie Nielsen is a corporate spy feeding information from her workplace to their competitor – yet the seedy twist is that all these static boardroom meetings, jet-setting hotel stays and multi-million dollar deals revolve around acquiring companies and websites that produce anime porn. Desensitisation is the mode as these characters seem non-plussed by the tentacle stuff; it’s business, baby, and the underlying erotics are how workplace flirting goes hand in hand with screwing people over for a better rung on the corporate ladder. Rumours of a website with role-playing models and S+M torture dungeons reinforce a sense of lurking danger and mystery; depraved, criminal underworlds can exist as long as they don’t hurt the merger legal agreements. Everything starts to become a shell game and the film itself shuffles across genres; in one scene, its new millennium ennui, another scene it’s a violent thriller, the next a dreamy free-fall into fractured identities.
The first time I saw demonlover was through a friend working in a video store giving me the preview DVD disc. Much like that digital medium, the tech may have dated (along with time-stamped fashions i.e. that bucket hat Nielsen wears in one scene) but the ruthlessness and moody ambience still remains potent. Second half feels like a net-based version of Mulholland Drive, a detour down the rabbit hole that spirals into an ending that feels like a bad joke and prefigures Black Mirror for a computerised ironic hell. Great showcase for Connie Nielsen, Chloe Sevigny and Gina Gershon existing in space. Moody fuzzy score by Sonic Youth; eclectic tunes pop off on the soundtrack, from Goldfrapp at a swanky party to Soulfly on late night TV. Streamed on Mubi. Recommended.
VHS Tracking 