A horrible tragedy happens, the news gets the story, and then the circus starts. Anchors talk about the school shooting or terrorist attack for hours, speculating and spinning without proof. They depict the event graphically, instilling fear in their viewers. People watch for hours, craving more and more details. It’s a form of twisted entertainment and we love it; Nightcrawler explores this.
A current topic appearing in many different movies is that of media, and the bias behind corporations that run media outlets. Deserving culprits include Fox News, for their shifty and deceptive perspectives and manipulation of uneducated and less discerning viewers, as well as the political and social left wing cheerleader, CNN, whose stories may spin the truth better than the Democratic Party.
Nightcrawler is about the media, but less about the behind the scenes of a station. Admittedly, it does focus on how ratings drive the material put on television, but its master stroke lies elsewhere — it shows you the horrors of a news station that picks its stories based on their visual power and fear factor, and then tells you how you are a part of the process.
This is an ingenious film that thrills you with its images and graphic violence, and then repulses you as you begin to realize that you crave these violent depictions. We go into these kinds of dark, gritty movies looking for someone to die, and then are thrilled by the spurting of their blood. The spectator is as involved with the unethical situation as the characters.
Dan Gilroy’s directorial debut presents a sordid story of underground crime journalism in LA. Lou Bloom (Jake Gyllenhaal), a man struggling for work, videos car hijackings, fires, and murders for the news. He captures raw images of dying, upper class whites, and sells them to Channel 6 News; they take the footage and manipulate it, so that viewers are drawn to their station. Lou doesn’t care about ethics; his aim is to capture the perfect shot of the dying, struggling victim, as these images can be sold to the station at a higher price. Everyone in Nightcrawler has a monetary value; people cease to be human. They are products for Lou to capture and sell, commodities for the station to publish, and a pathway to high ratings.
As Lou drives from crime scene to crime scene, the audience is invigorated by the proceedings. We don’t know the victims, but we are intrigued and thrilled by their horrible situations. We voyeuristically watch their final moments, as those who watch Channel 6 News do. I was simultaneously enraptured and repulsed.
Nightcrawler is a daring movie that succeeds on its surface level and leaves you thinking about more than a roaring mustang on the streets of LA. It’s an art-house action film with brains and brawn. Long takes and fluid hand-held cinematography build tension with slow movement within the frame, before the sequence explodes and the average shot length diminishes, cutting more frequently, and consequently increasing the tension in scenes.
This is the odd movie that you want to see, then not see, then see again, before not seeing it. Nightcrawler is action-packed, playing on our desire for violence before making us look in a mirror and revealing us as the culprits who fuel this immoral form of journalism. We demand the violence; they provide the supply.
