Fame costs, and right here is where you start paying – in blood
Lights, camera, murder! MaXXXine drags us back to the neon-drenched, coked-up nightlife of 1980s Hollywood, a world where fame is a dangerous game and ambition can be as deadly as it is dazzling. Mia Goth returns as Maxine Minx, the indomitable survivor of the notorious “Texas Porn Massacre” from X, now strutting through the smog-filled streets of Los Angeles in search of stardom like a predator stalking her prey.
Having made her name in adult entertainment, Maxine has her eyes set on mainstream fame, and her big break might just be on the horizon in the form of a high-profile horror movie sequel directed by Elizabeth Bender (Elizabeth Debicki). But there’s terror at the heart of Tinseltown as a serial killer stalks the streets and Maxine’s past refuses to stay dead and buried as private investigator John Labat (Kevin Bacon) dogs her every step.
Mia Goth holds court over the entire movie, effortlessly balancing Maxine’s raw vulnerability with her fierce determination to succeed, moving seamlessly from the wide-eyed ingénue of X to the hardened starlet navigating the treacherous waters of 1985 Hollywood. Her portrayal is a masterclass in character evolution, a complex symphony of emotions that keeps the character interesting and unpredictable.
Ti West’ recreates the 1980s with the same forensic precision he brought to X’s sun-dappled seventies, bringing the mid-eighties to vivid life and dripping with noir and slasher movie homages. From the cigarette stubbed out on Theda Bara’s star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame to checking out the Bates Motel, the film within a film conceit is an excuse to pepper the screen with easter eggs that guarantee repeated viewings as you try to spot them all. There’s a real Scream 3 vibe to the whole thing, not least of all in its invoking of the satanic panic as part of its plot, mirroring the real-life pearl-clutching that compromised the production of the third Scream movie even as it reprises the plot of a serial killer prowling the studio lot. There’s also more than a hint of Tarantino here, not so much Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, but in its centring on a veteran actor (Bacon) hamming it up in a conspicuously outré character role. Kevin Bacon is having a whale of a time and, along with Giancarlo Esposito, make the most of their roles. The meticulous attention to detail, from the flickering neon signs and ubiquitous VHS tapes to the perfect recreation of the era’s grisly, gory practical effects immerse us in a world that feels both nostalgic and fresh, although there are times when it does feel it’s trying a little too hard with its soundtrack needle drops.
Where MaXXXine falls short of its predecessors is in the vulnerability of its protagonist, or the lack thereof. Where X and Pearl created a sense of real danger and unpredictability, there’s no moment in MaXXXine when our heroine doesn’t seem protected by impenetrable plot armour and no matter what obstacle stands in her way, there’s little doubt that she’ll be okay. Despite the lack of direct peril (and I do mean direct – anyone and everyone around her is fair game) and teetering on the edge of eighties pastiche style over substance, MaXXXine maintains the thematic core that has defined the trilogy: the relentless pursuit of fame and the moral compromises that come with it. X introduced us to the gritty world of 1970s indie filmmaking, while Pearl delved into the dark origins of its pivotal characters with a sinister nostalgia. MaXXXine plunges headfirst into the glossy, treacherous allure of 1980s Hollywood, offering a conclusion that ties the trilogy together with a blood-stained bow. Each film stands on its own, yet together they form a mosaic of ambition, horror, and the high cost of fame.
