Dust Devil

Dust Devil is a gorgeous pre-digital art-horror movie that looks like a big budget noise film. Beautiful, expansive desert shots. Film noir lighting. Peeling green walls, crazy people's rooms, still life-like tableaus, dream sequences and anachronistic imagery. OK, noise film doesn't have a dream sequence but maybe it would if it were longer. Dust Devil also has elements that I hope aren't reminiscent of noise film—atrocious dialogue, structure that goes nowhere, terrible acting, some clumsy directing and scenes that don't play. Director Richard Stanley used to direct music videos in the UK in the 80's so the cinematic lineage makes sense. As someone predominantly interested in visuals, Stanley falls into practically every trap I've written about in this blog. But the film was still compelling enough for me to make it all the way through.

I did feel a kinship with the film's sense of silence and isolation. This is a movie about wide open spaces and individuals who connect only during fleeting moments. All of my film ideas tend to be very similar. Note that in Dust Devil, there are very few two-shots. Stanley shoots conversations by going back and forth between one-ers. That's the way I would do it. I don't think I saw an over-the-shoulder shot in the whole thing.

The acting moments that stood out to me were the unplayable moments—I'm going to commit suicide... no I can't do it... or can I? I'm going to shoot him... no I can't do it... or can I? As I wrote earlier (post), these kind of internal struggle scenes never work for me. They're just so actor-y. The problem isn't the acting. The problem is asking an actor to perform an unplayable scene.