“Seeking external validation isn’t healthy.”
“Always prioritize yourself, take care of your body and mind.”
“You must accept and love yourself before you can love someone else.”
…Really?
Whenever I open YouTube, there are always those people: demonstrating Pilates tutorials in front of their panoramic view windows or sharing “super easy, low carb” chia seed pudding recipes, smiling, radiant, and effortless. Through their Morandi-colored filters, it seems “changing for the better” is merely one inspirational slogan away, and all we lack is determination or “the right mindset.” “Embrace your imperfections; there is always a way to cure you.” Those tender, tickling voices that initially feel like feathers brushing our bruises would eventually weave a suffocating pile of nets but are barely enough to extricate a person already caught in the swamp.
When the tasteless, lukewarm chicken broth numbs our hearts, Look at Me spilled in a spoonful of black pepper mixed with cayenne chili.
Wake up! Miracles won’t happen!
Like an overthrow of a childhood fairy tale, Look at Me is so brutally honest that it gradually felt gritty to continue watching. Taylor’s insecure feelings and sincere eyes, clearly craving for love, elevate his expression to the next level: Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! I heard a resounding cry from this quote: for attention and love, a request so eager that it sounds desperate. It was a calling made when Taylor, the man I feel endless compassion for, finds what he assumes to be his light in the dark. The vulnerability is beautifully conveyed when he cautiously voices himself, only receiving a blast of ice water on the face, shoving himself and us again back to the endless vain. Yet soon following a dreamy portrayal of an almost too-good-to-be-true romance, when the early misfortune can finally be tagged as “the darkness before dawn,” the film rips off the transient serenity without hesitation while wrenching the “all will be fine” direction of the story to an immediate plunge – “you are NOT cured.” Once more, Taylor finds himself in a vicious circle. However, if ‘the perfect one” showing up miraculously curing all traumas is a façade we have been too hesitant to break, the way this plot crisply shatters the illusion is, in a way, satisfying. This process is similar to cutting open an abscess and allowing the oozing mucus-blood mixture out; it may be disgusting and intimidating to quite a few as it happens, but we know it is also the only way to heal.
When I stepped aside from the story and looked into the more technical level, I was uncertain whether it was the black-and-white filter throughout the film or the fact that our hero, Taylor, an actor, was created and played by Taylor Olson, who ceaselessly stares right into our similarly troubled soul. His breaking of the fourth wall forced me to constantly confirm if I was watching a biographical documentary or peeking into someone’s dark privacy. Something derived from the subtle relationship between immersive acting and first-person narrative makes the character’s struggle so uncannily realistic that it alters the tie between the film and our viewing experience. Here, the movie turns into the mise-en-abyme; the efficient negative space is filled in by our knowledge of being troubled with doubt and failed attempts to seek affirmation. Every time I rewatch this film, I am surprised at how the psychological theme can be seamlessly demonstrated through eating disorders as the story’s central conflict. The stomach as an emotional organ, demanding attention as the nature of acting, and the character’s inner struggles are smoothly intersected. The awkward self-denial and self-explaining are more than relatable, turning the movie scenes into projectors and mirrors that reflect our deeply buried memories – those too jarring to forget. “Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!” Thinking of the physical pain Lawrence Olivier endured as he struggled to achieve further in his performance art, the desperation in those words is replaced by the powerful, unrestrained announcement of the meaning of life.
In the first half of the film, I was in awe of the bizarre picture of the lust for food and sex and the struggle seeking external love intertwined with narcissism. But just like the sky seems exceptionally clear after a thunderstorm, when the color returns to the screen, a refreshing stream of air brings a sense of calmness back to our hearts. From “Look at Me” to “I See You,” this film presents bitter, sour, and every flavor but eventually leaves a gentle aftertaste.
“Are you ready to tell your story?”
Look at Me screens at the Fall 2024 New Jersey Film Festival on Sunday, September 15. The film will be Online for 24 Hours on this date. Tickets are available for purchase here.
The 43rd Bi-Annual New Jersey Film Festival will be taking place on select Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays between September 6-October 18, 2024. The Festival will be a hybrid one as it will be presented online as well as doing in-person screenings at Rutgers University. All the films will be available virtually via Video on Demand for 24 hours on their show date. VoD start times are at 12 Midnight Eastern USA. Each General Admission Ticket or Festival Pass purchased is good for both the virtual and the in-person screenings. Plus, acclaimed electronic music artist Jim Haynes will be doing an audio-visual concert on Friday, October 18 at 7PM! The in-person screenings and the Jim Haynes Concert will be held in Voorhees Hall #105/Rutgers University, 71 Hamilton Street, New Brunswick, NJ beginning at 5PM or 7PM on their show date. General Admission Ticket=$15 Per Program; Festival All Access Pass=$120; In-Person Only Student Ticket=$10 Per Program. General Admission Jim Haynes Concert Ticket=$25. To buy tickets go here: https://watch.eventive.org/newjerseyfilmfestivalfall2024
