heartisdeceitful

There she stood, at the front of the movie theatre at the Varsity Cinema, under the white-hot spotlight, in front of the black curtains, clad entirely in black--black high heels, black dress, black eye makeup, black dyed hair--and speaking into the black microphone directly in front of her: "Good evening, everyone. Four years ago, I made a film called Scarlet Diva. In Italy, they thought it was a piece of shit. But when I showed it here in Toronto, people liked it. So now I've made another movie called The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things, and I hope that everyone here in Toronto will like it just like my last film."

Asia Argento.... I always knew we'd meet again. I didn't know where, didn't know when, but I knew we'd meet again someday. I never doubted it--something made it inevitable. I wouldn't have missed this movie for the world. Now, on September 15th, 2004, four years almost to the day that we last met, our paths cross once more. And you're even more gorgeous than ever.

Asia was introduced by Noah Cowan, the festival's co-director, who called her "one of the most courageous filmmakers in the world today," and she came with her co-screenwriter, Alessandro Magania, as well as J.T. LeRoy, author of the original book that the film was based on. To say that LeRoy looked uncomfortable was putting is as mildly as possible: not only was he wearing a black suit and shirt, but also black sunglasses and a black fedora, and when he spoke into the microphone to thank people for coming to see the film, his voice was barely audible. This experience was obviously a great torment for him that it was painful to behold (I believe he actually broke down at one point), and at first I had no idea why. I hadn't read his collection of short stories that inspired this film (I wanted the film to surprise me as best it could), so I had no idea that the story was largely composed of elements from his own childhood, a childhood that was like hell on earth. He reminded me of one of those guests on talkshows who come to describe the abuse they suffered as children--this film was his confession, and Asia Argento was communicating it.

In Scarlet Diva, Asia exorcised her own personal demons through the eyes of her alter-ego, Anna Battista, who endured several frenzied weeks in LA and Europe. Here, Asia exorcises the personal demons of J.T. LeRoy (as well as some of her own), through the character of Jeremiah, the young son of Sarah. Sarah makes Courtney Love look like Mother Teresa: the first day she gets him out of foster care and back into her dingy semi-detach in the lower-middle-class part of town, she's calling him a spoiled brat and throwing his food all over the walls. He tries to run away, but is picked up by the cops, and then picked up by Sarah (who strolls into the police station looking like one of the tramps they usually lock up). Does he want to get away? They'll get away together. Sarah takes him on a cross-country trip across the southern states ("We're going to have a lot of fun together," she promises). By the time the film is over, Sarah will have been screwed and screwed over by several guys, some of whom go on to sexually abuse her son, and Jeremiah will have been repeatedly abandoned by his mother and left to fend for himself, get sent into a strict Christian colony by his foster parents, endure humilation at the hands of his half-brother Aaron (John Robinson) and his grandfather (Peter Fonda), become a born-again Christian, only to be taken back by his mother and return to their roaming, nomadic life of petty crime.

Although Asia is top-billed as Sarah, this film is really Jeremiah's story. Dylan and Cole Sprouse deliver one of the best, most convincing and complex child performances I have ever seen onscreen. These kids do things that require real nerve--there are grown actors who couldn't do what they do so powerfully. I haven't seen this much child abuse in a movie since Mommie Dearest, but while that film was a sensationalistic exploitation of the love-hate between a mother and daughter, this film is a complex and compelling account of the love-hate relationship between a mother and son. (Indeed, the boys' performances are so great, I didn't pay as much attention to Asia's performance, because here she plays a bad girl trying to be good, which is the role she was born to play--or the role she was born playing.) The film is embellished with various bizarre dreams, drug trips and hallucinations; I was particularly intrigued by a series of animated red ravens that we see at various parts in the film--the birds attack him and start pecking away at his body (such as in the scene where he's being operated on after getting raped) and we see that they're metaphors for Jeremiah's mental anguish. (If Lucio Fulci had a cat in his brain, Jeremiah has a crow in his brain.)

"Sure! 'I am an anti-christ! I am an anarchist! Don't know what I want, but I know where to get it--" He does a hilariously wild impression of Johnny Rotten singing the Sex Pistols' anthem to anarchy, and even spits at Aaron's feet. This behaviour is not at all appreciated by Peter Fonda, who's presence is so imposing that even I was intimidated just by watching him on the screen.

The first of the two most memorable cameos in the film is supplied by Winona Ryder as a child therapist who practices the exact kind of counselling that will not help a young boy get over traumatic experiences. (Winona Ryder in an Asia Argento film? It was probably inevitable, since some critics love to compare the two.)

The second is performed by Marilyn Manson, looking his scariest out of makeup. He's Jackson, the man responsbile for the most disturbing--and perplexing--scene in the whole film: Sarah bleaches her hair blonde, makes herself up and dons a flashy gown before doing the same to Jeremiah so that they look practically identical. We see Sarah go out and do a revealing dance for Jackson who gets really excited, but just when he wants to get going, the screen fades to black and the next thing we know, Jeremiah is trying to clean off one of the dresses and Sarah is giving Jackson shit, trying to beat him up. Was it Sarah or Jeremiah doing the dance? Did Jackson try to screw the woman or the boy? Asia leaves that part to the viewer's imagination.

Many critics--myself included--have compared this movie, and Scarlet Diva, to the work of Harmony Korine (Gummo, julien donkey-boy), as both of their films feature sparse, enigmatic narratives that consist largely of a series of disjointed narrative elements thrown together in a sort of collage and realized in jerky, experimental, cinema-verite, Dogma-95 style. Even more than Scarlet Diva, The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things reminded me of a Korine movie. Both directors are fascinated by seedy, apathetic, bizarre characters and their trashy, wasted lifestyles (in Gummo, we see a young boy eat spaghetti while taking a bath in water green with his own filth; in this film, we see Jeremiah put every kind of condiment--sugar, butter, syrup, jam, etc.--on a bowl of dry cereal before eating it). During the question-and-answer session after the movie, I asked Asia if she had seen Korine's films and if she considered him an influence on his work. "No, not really," she answered. "I've seen Gummo, and I liked it, but I believe my films represent the cinematic mentality of my generation, and aren't imitations of any one specific director's work." (I still think Asia's and Korine's films are similar--who knows, maybe one day one of them will appear in the other's movie.)

While Asia's sophomore feature film effort is certainly an excellent movie, infused with generous dosings of pain and pathos, I must admit that I liked Scarlet Diva better. That film positively burned with passion and enthusiasm--it was a raw, exhilarating experience, more intimate and revealing, literally and figuratively (in Scarlet Diva, Asia spent half the movie in the buff; here, she's only naked in one high-angle long shot, so it's tough to see anything, and while she does do a couple of exotic dance scenes, she studiously avoids showing any private parts). The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things is decidedly more mellow, at least in parts. It also feels more polished and professional, given that it was shot on 35mm film, not digital video, had some bigger stars, and wasn't always shot in the frantic, jerky, experimental style of Asia's debut feature.

How will Asia's future feature films develop? Will they continue to become more high-budget and less experimental? Will they continue to probe into the anguished minds of tortured artists and naive innocents? Who knows.... The most surprising statement that Asia made after the screening was that she didn't think she would act in any more of the films she directs--it was just to exhausting to play the role of Sarah and the role of filmmaker and do justice to both parts. Making this film absolutely consumed her every waking moment, she said, and she might grow better at directing and acting if she kept the two roles separate from now on. I'm not sure how I'd feel about that, but I do know one thing for sure--Asia Argento is too passionate and committed an artist to make a movie that she doesn't care about. Her blood, sweat and tears are the proof of her passion, and it's all unspooled in the frames of cinema that she devotes herself to making and we devote ourselves to watching. Love them or loathe them, Asia Argento's films cannot be forgotten.

The Q&A session was now over (it had reached its zenith--or nadir, if you were in Asia's shoes--when some guy wished her an early happy birthday for September 20th; she was so embarrassed she burst out laughing and had to cover her face; when one of her companions started to sing "Happy birthday to you/Happy birthday to you," Asia dropped to the floor and tried to crawl under the curtains--seriously). Now it was time for Asia and I to have a little reunion. Strangely enough, I was more nervous than I had been four years before, as I had some different, more important things to say to her. While watching and listening to her throughout the evening, I had noticed that she seemed somewhat less open and more standoffish than I rememberd her being in 2000. It was understandable, since a hell of a lot had happened to her since then, Hollywood and motherhood not being the least of them.

She was standing against the theatre walls, posing for pictures and singing autographs, just like she had been before, and I was slowly approaching her, just like I did before, telling myself Do it, Mike, just do it, don't make a royal idiot of yourself, don't overstay your welcome, don't act like Rupert Pupkin--just go up to her and treat her like you would any other normal person. When I finally did get to her and ask her if my face rung a bell, she looked at me hard, trying to remember--I could tell it was on the tip of her tongue.

"Well, hey, it's four years old, it disintegrates, y'know. Will you sign this for me, please?" I got out my pen and showed Asia my old 2001 issue of Bizarre magazine, in which she was the cover girl; the interview inside was accompanied by photos of her heavily pregnant and wearing nothing but a leather collar and high heels.

"I know, I know, but they like it. Could you write 'To Laura and Sophie--Amore', and sign your name, please?" As she did that, I told her how my two young twin sisters were ardent Asia Argento fans: They liked to dress up the same as her, style their hair like her, and make themselves up like her (they don't have any tattoos--yet). "They're only fifteen, but they want to be just like you!"

I wanted to explain that Laura and Sophie were named after Sophia Loren--one of my father's favourite actresses--and to tell Asia what a strange coincidence that was, since Dario Argento and Sophia Loren were childhood friends and that she and Sophia Loren even had the same birthday (September 20th), but I had much more important things to discuss--something I had been dreaming about asking Asia for a long time.

"Ms. Argento, I'm a writer for a Euro/cult/horror movie webzine called Cinema Nocturna, and everyone involved with it--me, the owner, the editor, all the writers, all the readers, everyone--we're all huge fans of yours, we love you. Do you think it would be possible, I mean, could I--I'd really love to do an interview with you for the webzine. Are you available? Can you do it?" It was a prayer as much as a question.

My spirits soared up into the sky! My eyes lit up like fireballs! An insane ear-to-ear grin spread across my face! My dream could come true! My frame went shaky and I started to stammer in anxious ecstasy. "Really? I mean, yeah, yeah--yeah, I'm sure we could arrange something, definitely. We'll definitely arrange something, yeah. Thank you, Ms. Argento, thank you!" I gave her a gracious handshake and let her go.

I was about to leave the theatre--almost everyone else had by then--when I suddenly thought of something vitally important. Running out of the theatre, I caught up to Asia, walking away with a small group of her colleagues. "Asia, I'm sorry to bother you again, but the horror movie you'll be shooting here--is your father making it?"

"It's okay--I'm sure you'll be great in it. Thanks. Bye." I gave her a friendly, encouraging pat on the shoulder and walked away feeling like several megawatts of electricity had gone off in my head. I had a shot at an interview with Asia Argento! My favourite actress, my dream! Could I pull this off?