X 4K 2022 Ultra HD 2160p

Anyone will tell you, this is pretty much how The Texas Chainsaw Massacre began (albeit with some reservations): a minivan dusting off Southern states roads, enthusiasts driving out into the wilderness to make adult movies. A producer in a cowboy hat, Wayne (Martin Henderson), has rented a farmhouse from decrepit old men who are unlikely to ask unnecessary questions. While director RJ (Owen Campbell) nurtures ambitions to make a porn masterpiece worthy of the French New Wave and calls his sound girl Lorraine a "prude" (the new scream queen Jenna Ortega), the lead actors Jackson (a convincing Kid Cady) and Bobby Lin (an equally convincing Brittany Snow) are itching to start shooting. Maxine (Mia Goth) looks languidly out the window: she is destined to become a star, only to survive the coming night.

X 4K Review
Anyone will tell you, this is pretty much how The Texas Chainsaw Massacre began (albeit with some reservations): a minivan dusting off Southern states roads, enthusiasts driving out into the wilderness to make adult movies. A producer in a cowboy hat, Wayne (Martin Henderson), has rented a farmhouse from decrepit old men who are unlikely to ask unnecessary questions. While director RJ (Owen Campbell) nurtures ambitions to make a porn masterpiece worthy of the French New Wave and calls his sound girl Lorraine a "prude" (the new scream queen Jenna Ortega), the lead actors Jackson (a convincing Kid Cady) and Bobby Lin (an equally convincing Brittany Snow) are itching to start shooting. Maxine (Mia Goth) looks languidly out the window: she is destined to become a star, only to survive the coming night.

Pornography and horror films go hand in hand almost from the birth of cinema: it's in the reflex reactions - excitement and fear have similar biological components. Minus the adrenaline, however, laughter is not far removed from these mechanisms, but, of course, it escapes moral punishment. Sex and violence are niche pleasures in words (and in reality absolutely universal), which is why horror movies are still stigmatized. Representatives of the genre, due to their exploitative nature, are less likely to make it into prestigious festival competitions, to receive awards and critical acclaim (Ducournau's win at Cannes was a high-profile event). The situation has changed and is changing, but to transform public opinion, one way or another, you need helpers: either a quality sign in the form of the label "smart" or the weighty name of the director in the credits - Stanley Kubrick, for example. If you say "horror" three times in a dark room, a film critic will immediately appear and come banging on your door with an axe, convincing you that The Shining is the greatest horror movie ever made. But were the others ultimatelly stupid and devoid of meaning? Hardly, but who cares about nuance.

At least Ty West does. "X" rather bluntly and shamelessly demonstrates that horror and dirty movies are of the same blood, but there should be no shame in that. Neither to those who shoot and film, nor to those who watch. The swallows of the sexual revolution discuss the legitimacy and naturalness of emancipation - passages about free love are not hidden behind the scenes or between the lines. But they come up against the fact that we are not immortal, that there is an age limit to sexuality, that attraction is still synonymous with youth. But is this true? Ty West puts the question squarely and in the throat with an axe.

Among other directors of the conventional underground (West has done enough studio multiseries in recent years), Ty is distinguished by his diligent stylistic work on pictures. In addition to his permanent yearning for retro in general and the '70s in particular ("House of the Devil"), the director periodically makes forays into subgenres, be they found footage ("Mystery"), westerns ("In a Valley of Violence") or mumblecore with a suspense vibe ("Old Hotel Mysteries"). In "X," the turn came to the slasher, which was last predicted to die a month ago with the release of another "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" on Netflix, and resurrected earlier this year after "Scream" started at the box office. By the way, both projects are unoriginal: sprouting from the ashes of iconic franchises. But it is unfair to strip "X" of its genetic gene: the roots of the film are not in the twice mentioned "Chainsaw", but in another massacre of Toob Hooper's "Eaten Alive", Paul Thomas Anderson's "Boogie Nights" and Peter Jackson's "The Living Dead". In the structure, you can see not only a Hitchcockian twist halfway through, but also a wink to Godard. It's almost like a proverbial saying: "A film should have a beginning, a middle and an end, but not necessarily in that order," commanded the herald of the New Wave. Both in the timeline of "X" and in the film within the film "Farmer's Daughters" the orgasm happens before the foreplay: in the opening scene the cops go around the house after the massacre, and the acrobatic etudes on the bedspread are shot before the lovers meet.

We'll leave the search for intersections with "Psycho" and other references to the authors of the video essay. Chances are, even egregious geeks won't be able to find all the Easter eggs: Ty West is a model cinephile filmmaker. But the magic of "X" isn't in the quotes and pop-culture baggage or agenda, but rather the opposite. West calls horror his name and does so with genuine love and tenderness, standing knee-deep in blood on a carpet of straw. The director neatly swaddles the genre and wanders the trail from sex to violence and back again with such gusto that you don't want to expose the magician's skill.

You can talk about rhythmically composed montages and rhyming shots by the outlines of objects, cheeks, and basement light bulbs. About the dynamic chords of sharp movements, good old-fashioned screamers and the torture porn of rusty nails. About Jenna Ortega's majestic screams and sharp pitchforks. About music recognizable to the point of not being annoying. Or revealing the secret of the twins that has saved many an illusionist. "X" has absolutely nothing to do with the proverbial wit or the plaque of Studio A24, which has become a kind of indulgence for watching a low genre. Everything is arranged in a much simpler way: the viewer loves horror movies. And that love is mutual. Especially when the recognition is signed: director, writer and producer Ty West.

Don't be shy: "X" is a great dirty movie.