The Beast

I recently watched The Beast by Bertrand Bonello, and it came back to my mind yesterday, so here’s a little something for watching tonight—a truly unique, borderline-Lynchian sci-fi film that’s as far from summer vibes as you can get.

This is the kind of movie Léa Seydoux was born to carry. While it’s unlikely to achieve the cultural phenomenon status of something like Mulholland Drive, it’s undeniably a milestone in her filmography. George MacKay is also impeccable. The film is a radical reinterpretation, not just of a Henry James novella, but of experiences we’ve all lived—and likely will live again, over and over.

One thing that grabbed me immediately (and always does) is when a director chooses a classic piece of music intrinsically tied to an emotional or physical state—think Adagietto from Mahler’s 5th Symphony and its association with death. Here, in the very first scene introducing the characters, we hear Fritz Kreisler’s Liebesleid (Love’s Sorrow), from the violin and piano set Alt-Wiener Tanzweisen (Old Viennese Melodies). It’s eerie how this piece foreshadows the melancholic bond between these two mysterious, charming strangers who appear on screen.

For context, Liebesleid is one of three miniatures in the set, alongside Liebesfreud (Love’s Joy). These are often played back-to-back, in a "you can’t have one without the other" kind of way. Bonello, however, subverts this romantic duality. He distorts Liebesleid-Liebesfreud to reflect the fear of emotions, and the desperate turn to narcissism and technology as an attempt to disable feelings altogether—essentially trying to escape the inevitable pain they bring. (Told you this wasn’t a summer flick. If you need a palate cleanser, go see Hit Man at an open-air cinema and enjoy Glen Powell’s transformation into a capybara-turned-hot-guy-slash-superstar).

P.S.: The third piece from Alt-Wiener Tanzweisen is Schön Rosmarin, which also makes an appearance in the film. Fun fact: it’s a staple on the soundboards of directors for Greek sitcoms.