Her Private Hell

Walking into a Nicolas Winding Refn film you can always be assured of a visual feast. In that way, Her Private Hell doesn't fail to impress. Refn brings to life an entrancing future surrounded by mysterious mist hiding dark secrets and a killer clad in leather. And in the middle of it all the elaborately decorated home of Elle (Sophie Thatcher) and the dysfunctional family consisting of her father (Dougray Scott) and stepmother (Havana Rose Liu).

A good amount of time could be spent praising the look of Refn's latest. Unfortunately, that's were the praise ends. The story is more than a bit of a mess providing visual treats of delicate settings encroached upon at times by a brutal gory violent bursts along a winding path that never leads anywhere. Early in the film, Elle comments that the movie is going to be hell, and at no time in the film are more apt words spoken.

We get a sci-fi movie shoot (responsible for more great visuals) which is then discarded. The dysfunction of Elle's family may be important to what happens in Elle's home, but it can't fully play out when one character checks out halfway through the film and the other disparate stories of the script, introduced and discarded at the director's whim, don't tie-in at all.

We get the arrival of a young actress (Kristine Froseth) staying with Elle (why, when the rest of the building is shown to be empty?) whose main purpose in the film appears to be wide-eyed and annoying, without any further purpose. At minimum, Froesth's appearance should be the eyes to unlock the world for the audience and explore is secrets, but when the film lacks anything resembling depth to explore there's no reason for her prescence.

There's also a disparate story of an American soldier (Charles Melton), which feels like a separate film set only somewhat in the same world, wandering the streets for years in search of the legendary monster who stole his daughter (and who we will see rip various characters in half over the film for reasons unexplored). When confronted with other forms of injustice he lashes out to be pitied and punished by the local police, in some ways tying back to themes the writer/director explored in Only God Forgives.

Then there are Shioli Kutsuna and Aoi Yamada the two seamstresses (who also work in a doll shop?) who also provide some kind of half-mystical role in the film as something akin to furies, fates, or witches in yet another corner of the story left unexplored. How does this all fit together? It doesn't. At all. And that's the problem. When, as an audience member, you feel yourself spending more time trying to make sense of a movie than the personal who wrote it, you know you're in for a bad time.

The underdeveloped story feels rushed and half-finished, akin to an amazing music video with a completely forgettable song. What is the mist? Why is it dangerous, or is it dangerous as characters are constantly going out into it? What was the point of the film-within-the-film, or our soldier, to the larger story or its themes? And where or when is this unusual location apparently only inhabited by a handful of people, beautifully shot empty rooms and expertly lit hallways? Her Private Hell is a perfectly laid out feast in the grandest of ballrooms where every course is undercooked. 

• Title: Her Private Hell
• IMDb: link