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Margin Rockers: Her Smell (2018, dir. Alex Ross Perry, US)

by Matt Olsen

On the surface, Her Smell bears many of the same rock biography hallmarks that I railed against in last week’s introductory screed but there are significant variations in this film to elevate it above the irritatingly predictable “biopic” template. 

The most glaringly obvious of these qualities – and one that I think bears mentioning before going on any further – is that it’s a work of fiction, not attempting to tell the true-life story of any particular, actual person. Though it is conspicuously inspired in part by a glaringly obvious cultural figure, it doesn’t present itself as Her Story and, therefore, remains free to create moments and pursue narrative directions outside that person’s experience. That said, it’s – I assume purposefully – not a very subtle disguise and somewhat resembles the tactic Tarantino has been taking of shifting well-known historical events toward a different outcome. 

Elisabeth Moss unequivocally owns the role of Becky Something, the leader of a nineties-era alt-rock trio called Something She. The decade or so covering the band’s rise, fall, etc., is told across five extended scenes, each averaging about thirty minutes and played in real time. In a sense, this is similar to the structural technique employed in many biography films; otherwise unconnected scenes placed chronologically to form a storyline or something close enough. The length and depth of these sections frees the film from Biopic Bingo, though. Each act is effectively its own complete short film with a narrative arc. In addition, for the most part, the big life-changing moments that might typically make up the meat of a standard biography don’t happen onscreen. The majority of the scenes here are backstage, between songs, and off the record.

Another prominent difference between Her Smell and other biographical movies is that, more than anything, it’s terrifying. While not explicitly a horror film, it does employ similar genre techniques. For three of the five segments, Moss’ Becky Something is a raving, feral, manic narcissist with a heavily implied (if not explicitly confirmed) drug addiction and attendant mental illnesses. The scenes with Becky at her full intensity are shot loose, hand-held, and very close to eliminate any hope of escape in the viewer. It’s an unmatched performance in terms of pure exertion – she leaves nothing – and one that I can safely assume was at least as exhausting for her as it is for the audience. 

The contributions of sound and production design to the unease and agitation can’t be overstated especially in the pre-show backstage scenes. These are soundtracked by the occasional crash of overturned cymbals and a low, muffled reverberation of the audience waiting on the other side of the wall. A constant, demanding rumble of tense expectations. The dominant color is red, lit by flickering fluorescents, and every room is realistically littered with band detritus: broken bottles, dirty towels, mirrors smeared with make-up.   

It's only the final act that slightly disappoints and maybe that’s because the end of the fourth act felt like such a comprehensive conclusion. The ending does not suggest that all of Becky’s problems have been solved or anything so convenient but the emotional narrative’s resolution felt redundant based on Act Four and maybe it was all just a little too cute? But then, why not? After eleven years of torment, this character probably deserves a happy ending. Or, in this case, an appropriately sad kind of happy ending.

Matt Olsen is a largely unemployed part-time writer and even more part-time commercial actor living once again in Seattle after escaping from Los Angeles like Kurt Russell in that movie about the guy who escapes from Los Angeles.

Josh Oakley