Comparison can sometimes be a major impediment to the process of appreciating art, especially when it comes to looking at two works that share similar sources or creators, and where one is far better than the other – it can become less of a case where we are celebrating the superior one on its own merits, and more about criticizing the other, which can be misplaced when we aren’t even aiming to discuss that one at first. In this regard, somehow Ti West was responsible for one of the biggest disappointments of the past year, as well as one of the greatest triumphs – and not only was he at the helm for both of them, the films come from the same shared universe, with his attempt at subversive slasher horror in X being pale in comparison to Pearl, the film that was never planned at first, but came about during the production of the previous film, where West and lead actor Mia Goth agreed that they were both interested in exploring the origins of the film’s main villain, which was eventually turned into this film, which is somehow one of the year’s most ambitious and unexpectedly entertaining productions, especially considering the film that preceded it. West has been very clear about the fact that, despite having connections between them, each of the films in what he intends to be a trilogy (the third to be released in the near future), they’re all individual works that can be seen and appreciated in isolation – so as tempting as it may be to constantly point out the flaws of X and merits of this film (especially since everything that was insufferable or frustrating about the previous film was entirely absent here), we need to appreciate Pearl on its own, so comparisons will be kept to a minimum in order to celebrate this masterful and bizarre psychological horror that dares to be different, and undeniably manages to manifest all of its strange artistic desires, under the direction of an artist who may be a candidate for one of the most demented but brilliant filmmakers working in the genre.

There are many directors that have broad aspirations of making films that pay tribute to either specific genres, or entire eras of filmmaking in general. X was a tribute to 1970s slasher horrors (with West citing The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, perhaps the greatest horror film ever made, as the primary inspiration), which is yet another example of a film built around a pastiche, rather than trying to pioneer a new form of horror, which is inarguably difficult, and resides more with those who take a more obviously experimental approach, which is not always preferable for some directors – many just want to pay homage to the films that they adored, which is as good a reason as any to make a film. However, what many struggle to do is live up to the expectations set by the directors themselves – all of them have an idea, but very few see it to fruition in the way it was intended, and as a result most of the films are good and decently entertaining, but shadows of what was intended. Pearl is the complete opposite – everything that West aimed to do with this film (based on what he has said about it) manifests on screen. He has spoken about how he was inspired by films like The Wizard of Oz and very traditional melodramas made during the Golden Age of Hollywood, where every passion and emotion was portrayed through the most vivid Technicolor, and every moment in this film feels like it is paying sufficient tribute to these sources in a way that is subversive and brilliant. Pearl is a colourful nightmare of a film, a provocative and terrifying depiction of the most beautiful version of our world. Unlike other slashers and very traditional horror, the violence and gore doesn’t only take place in broad daylight, but is often delivered with a broad smile, almost as if it is a cheerful affair. There is not a single moment in Pearl that feels like it was trying to be terrifying in the traditional sense, but rather presents us with a more sinister version of psychological horror. We watch as the titular character goes from charming farm girl with a heart of gold and the most delightful aspirations of becoming a Hollywood star, to an outright psychopath, someone who will go to any lengths to realize her dream, even if it means resorting to the most harrowing violence.

One would certainly struggle to find a horror film quite as visually distinct as Pearl, which was so intent on paying tribute to the big-budget musicals that West and many of his peers enjoyed in their younger years – and this quality is precisely what endears us to this film and makes it such a peculiar and challenging work, since there is an enormous disparity between what we see and what we are meant to feel, and West is relishing in the knowledge that every viewer is going to be undergoing a minor existential crisis as we grapple with this deranged but delightful horror (which is in itself a very good description of this film as a whole), and he takes full advantage of these qualities as he gradually constructs this demented masterclass in visual and narrative terror. The genre is full of tropes, and West intends to create a very clear working relationship with them, choosing to embrace some of them (which results in several of the film’s most memorable moments) while dispensing with others that were clearly unnecessary, replacing them with other elements drawn from genres outside horror, but which fit perfectly into the world the director is constructing. Working in close collaboration with Goth (who is credited as a co-writer, and thus contributed enough to the creation of the film to be considered one of its authors, which makes sense when you see how her character develops), West creates an intimidating about brilliant psychological horror that uses colour and imagery, in addition to a range of other creative aspects, to be as experimental and bizarre as possible, which is the source of many of the film’s most intentionally peculiar elements, which are seamlessly woven together by a director who understands that good horror is not always about the most clever and original ideas, but rather experimenting with the concepts that already exist, and finding new methods to configure them into grotesque, terrifying imagery that will be unsettling to even the most desensitized of viewers, while also not being too excessive that it creates a sense of repulsion. His version of horror is to unsettle but entice, and Pearl is the perfect construction of these ambitions, much more than the director’s previous work, which has the same perspective but less impact.

It seems like Mia Goth has been circling around stardom for around a decade now – a reliable and very gifted actor who seems to prefer taking on roles that are slightly off the beaten track, she certainly has a penchant for the absurd and alternative, which has led to her being considered one of the most interesting performers working today, but also one that has not yet found her niche, which is especially relevant to the fact that she’s so versatile, she can fit into a period comedy just as easily as a science fiction thriller, and still deliver a strong performance, transforming herself into her characters with such remarkable dedication, it is bewildering to consider the fact that she is still undervalued by the mainstream. However, this has actually been a blessing, because it allows her to take on fascinating work, and Pearl is perhaps her best work yet. Her performance as the upbeat titular farm girl who is so driven by her desire to be a star that she resorts to unhinged psychopathic behaviour to prove her mettle is nothing short of astonishing – detailed, with every movement, expression and utterance being carefully measured and tenderly placed into the film, it’s a masterful performance that carries so much intricate meaning, once we can get past the fact that she is covertly playing one of the most terrifying characters in modern horror, which is quite an achievement. The element that makes the character of Pearl so unsettling is a quality that we often find informing very effective genre performances – she doesn’t believe herself to be a villain, being so ingrained in the delusion that drives her search for stardom, and as a result Goth refuses to play her like a villain, instead constructing a depiction of the character that is earnest in her belief that not only is she an inherently good person, but that every one of her actions is not only acceptable, but requirements in order to achieve her ambitions, seeing the brutal murder of her friends and family as necessary a step in her rise to stardom as the audition process – in many ways, she views these actions as her own personal rehearsal for her eventual rise to wealth and worldwide recognition. There is no one like Pearl, and she will be the first to acknowledge this – only her view is that the qualities that terrify us are the ones that make her a star, and the most dangerous kind of villain are not those that know that they are evil, but rather those who genuinely believe that they are good people, and that their actions are justified. Goth’s performance is absolutely brilliant, and her ability to turn this Dorothy Gale-inspired country girl into one of the most maniacal villains in recent history is a testament to her immense talents, and ability to develop the character in a way that feels authentic, a credit to both the actor and her director, who was willing to accompany her on this strange but worthwhile artistic journey.

Horror has many different qualities, and this only grows once we take into account the many different kinds of stories and styles that exist under the genre – but the one characteristic that is shared by them all is the fact that a good horror is built on the element of surprise, which is especially important considering the criticisms around the more predictable aspects of the genre. There was not a moment in Pearl where I was able to anticipate what was to come, even with a brief cursory knowledge of the premise. Horror is about subversion, in terms of both the genre’s tropes and the audience’s expectations – and Pearl achieves this with what appears to be the most remarkable ease. We never feel as if West is forcing us to feel a particular emotion – the film carefully grapples with the boundary between horror and dark comedy to the point where some scenes may play as either terrifying or hilarious, depending on how the viewer choices to interpret what we are seeing on screen (as well as the extent to which we appreciate dark humour, which is an undeniable component in this film, and something that has been combatted by those who want to convince us to their belief that this is somehow a very serious, sobering drama, and not an outrageously funny film that finds humour in the depths of despair and harrowing violence), and how we want to interpret this film, which clearly has a much deeper meaning than what we may expect at first. There is so much detail lurking beneath every frame of this film, and even when it doesn’t seem to be focusing on it, there’s a multilayered approach that is drawing from innumerable sources of influence, each one contributing to the general thesis statement that nothing is what it seems in the world of this film, which is one where logic and rational thought are all suspended in favour of a slightly more perverse, complex set of highly-detailed provocations that ultimately lead to a film that is equal parts entertaining and deeply disquieting, with every explosion of horror being counterbalanced with a moment of unhinged comedy, which creates a perpetual ebb-and-flow between tones that makes for an unforgettable experience.

It takes a very gifted director to be able to effectively and concisely redefine the intentions of horror, and West has not always been viewed as the most consistent filmmaker of his generation when it comes to this genre. Yet, somehow with Pearl he creates a film that feels like a watershed moment in cinematic terror, and while it is drawing on numerous inspirations, it isn’t a matter of purely parroting the works that inspired him, but rather weaving together segments of his influences with his own certifiably unhinged artistic ambitions to create a singular work that is both enticing and disturbing, provoking the viewer in both senses of the word, which is something that should be celebrated and appreciated, since we don’t find films like this produced very often. There are two genres whose reception is often impossible to predict, namely comedy and horror, since it’s difficult to know exactly what will make audiences either scream in terror or howl in laughter – and Pearl has the unenviable task of featuring overt elements of both, making the risk doubly as difficult, but also the reward twice as satisfying. Pearl is the kind of horror film we didn’t know could exist until it was presented to us – a dark and demented collision of colour and violence, the likes of which we haven’t ever seen. It draws on the visual splendour of the Golden Age of Hollywood and pairs it with the bleak, harrowing violence of the contemporary era. A work of immense complexity and deep sincerity, and also a kind of well-constructed madness, Pearl is a fascinating and frequently disconcerting masterwork that may not reinvent horror, but does take the genre in some unexpected directions, frequently challenging the conventions in ways that feel revolutionary. Dark and deceptive, but also wildly entertaining, Pearl is a truly terrific work that always feels original, even when it is clearly taking its cue from existing works, which is only a further sign of West’s immense creativity and appreciation for the kinds of films that inspired this delightfully demented rural parable.