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March 12, 2025

WRITTEN BY: KATIE

Last year, when watching The Substance for the first time, I got to thinking about the plethora of influences that impact filmmakers nowadays because Coralie Fargeat’s incredible film is littered with references and stylistic homages. To name just a few, these include the interiors of the Overlook Hotel in Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, shots that mirror David Lynch’s Lost Highway and David Cronenberg’s body horror classic Videodrome, scenes that draw upon Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo, and the bloody climax that reminded me of Brian De Palma’s Carrie. A French director, Fargeat’s love of American films is also evident in her debut feature, Revenge (one of my favourite films ever), and she has commented that she was directly influenced by iconic action films like Kill Bill, Mad Max: Fury Road, and First Blood when making it.


Fargeat’s referential work reminds me of Ana Lily Amirpour, an Iranian American filmmaker whose debut feature, A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, a black and white Iranian film about a chador-clad, skateboarding vampire, is similarly steeped in influences from all over the world. It opens like a classic spaghetti western, utilising the genre’s themes and character archetypes, but with an atmospheric setting inspired by Lynch’s Eraserhead, and featuring iconography from 1950s juvenile delinquent movies like Rebel Without a Cause.

Now, filmmakers have obviously always been influenced by the movies and aesthetics they’ve been exposed to, but not like today. Modern technology has enabled easy access to films from any era, place, or genre, and this impact is evident on the increasingly eclectic films we currently see. A particularly good example is Everything Everywhere All at Once, which has countless cinematic references and homages that accumulate to express the information overload we experience as a result of the omnipresence of the internet, specifically social media, and how that impacts us as individuals and a society. 



I think there is a unifying aspect in these films alongside the eclectic styles of their directors, and that is that they’re channelling expressionism and neo-expressionism to portray the uniquely overwhelming world we live in. Realism cannot capture the, frankly, insane and sometimes scary socio-political landscape we exist in today, so it would make sense that filmmakers are utilising different tools to express that experience, and their toolkits are now more varied than ever. Some examples include The Tragedy of Macbeth, Poor Things, Denis Villeneuve’s Dune films, Challengers, Emilia Pérez, The Substance, Nosferatu (obviously), and I’d even argue Greta Gerwig’s Barbie (but more on that in a bit).

 

To start, let’s get into what German expressionism and neo-expression actually are.  

 

WHERE IT ALL BEGAN – GERMAN EXPRESSIONISM AND NEO-EXPRESSIONISM

German expressionism is a stylistic movement that has its roots in the early 1920s. A combination of political instability, the threat of economic issues, post-war anxiety, and the banning of foreign films during the Weimar period are attributed to the rise of films that sought to convey their characters’ emotional struggles and mental states. They used unsettling and surreal set design, chiaroscuro lighting, exaggerated makeup and acting, creative camera angles, and unsettling atmospherics to express the subjective experience of their characters. Some of the most notable examples of that era include The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Metropolis, and the original Nosferatu. German expressionism was exported to the United States when the filmmakers who fled Europe introduced their unique way of storytelling to Hollywood. They quickly made an impact outside of Germany, having a demonstrable effect on American horror films of the 1930s, heavily influencing film noir in the 1940s and 1950s and inspiring the careers of filmmakers like Alfred Hitchcock.




Neo-expressionism in film arose from the art movement of the 1970s and 1980s. Like German expressionism, neo-expressionism uses artificial lighting and sets, involves challenging themes, surreal aesthetics, and emphasises the psychological experience of their subjects over realism. Unlike their German expressionist predecessors, however, neo-expressionist art and film are characterised by their bold colours and, much like the modern directors I’ve discussed, are heavily influenced by historical referentiality.



With its distinctive visual style, bold themes, creative techniques, and ability to communicate anxiety and psychological interiority, German expressionism and subsequently neo-expressionism clearly had a significant impact in film, and I believe they are having a resurgence today. I’m not saying that our current political and social reality is the same as the conditions that birthed German expressionism, but the themes and visual language lends itself to portraying anxiety, uncertainty, and turmoil, which are definitely common features of the world today. 

 

With all of this in mind, I want to go through some recent examples of films that I believe incorporate elements of the expressionist and/or neo-expressionist style to convey disillusionment with our current social and political reality while challenging the status-quo. 

 

POOR THINGS




Yorgos Lanthimos’ Oscar-winning Poor Things demonstrates the style of German expressionism through its incredible production design, costuming, and portrayal of the protagonist Bella, played by Emma Stone, who won Best Actress for her performance.

All the sets for Poor Things were handmade and hand-painted, and lots of the visual effects are practical and the result of very creative thinking. The rooms feel unnervingly large and slightly distorted when Bella is less developed at the beginning of the film, giving the impression of a child learning to walk, stumbling through the rooms of the home. As Bella learns and grows, sets are used to convey a sense of claustrophobia as others around her attempt to control her, conveying her growing discomfort and awareness. The furniture inside the Baxter house is mismatched, with some chairs being too small and some being comically large, adding to the otherworldliness of the film and relating it to Bella’s experience of her new reality. Lanthimos used practical lighting on set to immerse the viewer in the unique world, then added high-contrast lighting to enhance the emotional drama and strangeness of particular scenes.




As for Stone, her performance reminds me of the stylised and exaggerated style of German expressionist films. Bella’s character externalises everything she thinks and feels, expressing emotion in a child-like way, especially before she has learned to use language. As the film progresses, her growth is reflected in Stone’s performance, as Bella becomes more physically composed and well-spoken. Initially, Bella is clad in pastel colours and childish styles: puffy sleeves, ruffles, and playful textures, often missing bits and pieces of her clothing. Her personal choices of outfits are dramatic and eccentric, highlighting her newly discovered sexuality and cheerful exploration of the world around her. As the movie progresses, her outfits become more reserved and stylish in an understated way, with darker, more sensible tones and less audacious fabrics and frills. This change is representative of both her development over the course of the film and the way her experiences have shaped her. All of this seeks to challenge male control of female sexuality and desire, and comments on self-actualisation when uninhibited by shame and the patriarchy. 

 

THE SUBSTANCE



The pressure to perform and conform is inescapable in The Substance. The repetitive grid pattern pops up constantly over the course of the film, most notably in spaces with mirrors, and it’s through such set design that the film shows the rigidity of expectations that are thrust upon and internalised by women, highlighting the ways in which they follow the protagonist, Elisabeth Sparkles (Demi Moore), everywhere. It also adds to the surreal uncanny valley effect, where the world is recognisable but also too artificial and sterile, too bright and intense, which emphasises the ways in which the world feels to the characters rather than how it actually is. This is reflected in the dialogue and logic of the film, too, where everything feels imitative and slightly hostile.


 

The television network’s headquarters is full of long hallways and fixed, geometric patterns. Elisabeth’s apartment is uncomfortably expansive, almost overwhelmingly so, which is juxtaposed against the dark, lengthy hallway that leads to her painfully white, plain, and fluorescent bathroom, where there is nothing to concentrate on but her own refection. Her own image stares at her both from a billboard outside her window and a giant portrait in her living room, showing that she cannot escape the pressures and insecurities that plague her or the toxic standards to which she holds herself. 

 

BARBIE




So, to be fair, this whole article has been anecdotal and a bit of fun since I love just talking about film and discussing my own observations, so stick with me here… Barbie also owes a debt to German expressionism and neo-expressionism, particularly in its portrayal of Barbieland. Take Weird Barbie’s (Kate McKinnon) house, for example. The skewed staircase, the angular architecture, jagged shapes, oddly shaped doorways – do you see it?!

 

What’s more, the residents of Barbieland don’t quite fit in their dollhouse homes or cars. They’re all slightly too large, and random items like hairbrushes are too big for the characters, creating an odd effect that enhances the feeling of “authentic artificiality,”, which is how Greta Gerwig described the style of the film. Even more so, though, it creates the feeling that something is somehow out of place in the world. A very expressionistic endeavour, indeed.

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