A lady (Willa Fitzgerald) meets a man (Kyle Gallner) for a one-night stand of kink-fueled sex at a motel just to the east of Portland but still in very rural Oregon.  What started as a fun night quickly devolves into a dangerous game of cat and mouse between a serial killer and their next victim.  As the chase continues, no one in the small community is safe. 

Writer/director JT Mollner returns to cinemas with Strange Darling after an eight-year hiatus.  Initially premiering at the 2023 edition of the Fantastic Film Fest, Magenta Light Pictures held the Miramax-funded film for a late summer theatrical release on just over 1,100 screens.  At only 97 minutes long, Mollner packs his film with abrasive and propulsive energy so that there is never a chance for things to settle or lag, and audiences experience the thriller as if they were in the center of the chase themselves instead of in the safety of their auditorium. 

Despite that immersion into the story and tone, Mollner never lets his audience forget that they are watching a film.  After the studio credits, bold white letters command the screen stating that it was shot in 35mm; yet, it was distributed via DCP.  From there we transition to a crawl setting the stage for the film informing us that the following will be the final gambit of a serial killer’s rampage.  After that, the title card informs us that the story will be presented in six chapters; it does not mention an epilogue, though there is one.  Finally, the film can begin, and it opens in Chapter 3.  Black and white photography of the Lady coming out of the woods while the frame slowly fills with color, first red, then the rest of the spectrum to follow.  It is a lot to take in all at once, and audiences can be forgiven for their hesitation as just any one of these creative choices is enough to derail a film, but thankfully Strange Darling is a well-calibrated thriller and Mollener can be admired for putting everything – well, almost everything – down on the table right from the get-go. 

While the proclamation of 35mm is beyond blunt, cinematographer Giovanni Ribisi has a lot to be proud of because the film really does look great. The colors are bright and vibrant and editor Christopher Robin Bell assembles the film with all the manic energy of a neon-soaked noir but translated to a more autumnal color palate.  Beyond what we see, Craig DeLeon provides a propulsion score that takes the, for lack of a better term, Inception BRAAAM and repurposes it into the context of this micro thriller giving the small stakes a sense of immense gravitas.  This is far from a calculated and tinkering score as traps are set and escaped from, but more of an exercise in the blunt force nature of sound. It thunders adding to our own discomfort and as it shakes and rattles our bones, it also serves as an incredible companion to the fractured and nonlinear approach to the story. 

As for the story, Mollner’s decision to deliver it how he does is the only way for the film to work as intended, but it does not change our frustration with it at the time.  Opening in Chapter 3, we see the man furiously pursue the lady, already bloody and distressed.  After almost riding her off the road in his hulking black pickup truck, he stops and fires his shotgun towards her, disabling the car.  On foot, the lady makes her escape through the woods to the home of friendly retired mountaineers, Frederick (Ed Begley Jr.) and Genevieve (Barbara Hershey), seeking sanctuary but the man is not far behind her.  We then cut to the earlier chapters of the story as the lady and the man, and it should be noted here that Gallner’s role is credited as “the demon,” flirt in his truck while setting up the rules of their upcoming scene.  Once in the bedroom, the man begins to act out of line, re-cuffing the lady against her pleas and talking of all the horrible things he is going to do to her.  “Mr. Snuffaluffagus” she cries at last; their agreed-upon safe word.  This was all part of their game, and then Mollner reveals his game. It is the lady who is the serial killer and not the man.  The Electric Lady we learn later on, has been terrorizing the Pacific Northwest racking up an incredible body count.  It is a great twist that, well, electrified the back half of the film with a new energy but as quickly as a bolt of lightning fades this marked shift quickly sours the chemistry of cat and mouse that had been built.  Sure, this is because we had the roles reversed in our heads as we watched the drama topple over and assemble the pieces like a puzzle, but Mollner does not always seem to know how to write the lady as sharply as he had when she had a secret.   

After the initial shock of the reveal, there is very little excitement and we do not garner the same sympathy for the man once we know he is the mouse as we did for the lady before we knew she was the cat. The film becomes a much more straightforward survival thriller, but with very few surprises left up its sleeve.  Mollner is very attentive at tying up any loose ends such as the fate of the mountaineer couple or how the lady got the car, but there is very little else that he is doing here in the final twenty minutes or so.  It feels long and that is because these are the only two segments that flow into each other chronologically.  To call the ending boring, though, is still a struggle but it is not the live wire we had been watching and it gives us too much time to think and balance what we are seeing.  When the film was paced more like a firehose on full blast, we were much more accepting of what we were seeing as it flashed by us, and though Mollner never cheats the rules he has imposed on himself or his characters, and the conveniences enjoyed by the lady are never too heavy-handed that we feel they are bordering on impossible, we notice these small, consecutive strokes of luck more so than before and that drags the excitement of the moment down considerably as it feels less dangerous.  

Strange Darling, while cycling through the familiar, still feels fresh, new, and exciting.  There is no denying the love that went into the craft of the film, and Mollner clearly inspired his team to work with fervor.  It handles its violence with a blunt, matter of factness that does not diminish the depravity we see, but does not feel exploitative, either.  With that being said, it still feels at home in the grindhouse, though those more versed in the genre may not find the same satisfaction as the wider audience. The film is an incredible effort by all involved and it creates an instantly engaging and thrilling ride for audiences whom Mollner has baited with tragedy and now has them in such a state that they cannot look away from the screen.