This is one of my favourite scenes from
Dan Gilroy’s 2014 film, Nightcrawler. The man you see on the left is Louis Bloom, a
stringer who follows police scans at night to catch footage of accidents and crimes to
sell to his local news organization. The woman on the right is detective Frontieri,
here to question Lou’s involvement in a recent shootout that happened between
the cops and some local criminals. At first glance, the scene feels like any
other interrogation sequence. The detective asks some questions,
and the suspect answers. But something weird happens when Lou begins telling
the detective about what he was doing the day of the incident. 'It began earlier in the day', 'I was watering my plant'. Right there. Now, obviously, this line makes more sense
if you’ve seen the film, and regardless, it probably feels weirder than it really
is because I specifically cut around it, but considering how the rest of his statement
is solely about the shootout itself, mentioning his plant seems like a very odd move to make. 'That's your story?'
'That's what happened; that's why I'm sitting here with you'. So why did Lou start his sentence with this? For starters, there are actually three
instances leading up to this moment where Lou waters his plant - once after the
first night of working as a stringer, once during the montage sequence, and once
after the detectives visit his apartment. You may also have noticed from the timing
of the shots that Lou always waters his plant at the same time of the day. The
shots always follow a night of working, when he is back at home, and is watching
the same daily news on his television. This is more than taking care
of a plant. It’s a routine - a ritual he practices for a very specific
reason: to mimic normal human behavior. You see, this is Nightcrawler’s way of
portraying a psychopathic character without saying that he is a psychopath
(I know, I’ll get to that word in a minute). The reason why Lou mentions watering his plant is because he is trying to appeal to the detective
that he is normal. Think about it. Is there a way to act
psychopathy? Shoot psychopathy? Play psychopathy? Although outward appearance surely is one thing
to consider, cinematic depiction of a psychopathic individual - or for that matter, any character -
is never just about the look. While the infamous psychopath stare can seem like
a decisive attribute, it doesn’t actually hold enough power to stand on its own, and truth be told, it’s
not even a defining characteristic in real life. And yes, I’m saying Lou is a psychopath only
for the sake of simplicity. As far as I know, psychopathy is not
a real diagnosis that is found in DSM V; it’s something that can only be assessed. It’d be more accurate to refer to psychopathy
based on existing disorders like borderline, narcissistic,
or even histrionic personality disorder, but given the complex nature of ASPD, we’re
going to refer to all forms of (or a mixture of different) personality disorders present in this
film as psychopathy. That means we’re not going to talk about
sociopathy for the same reason, although since sociopaths are
commonly believed to be created, are more prone to emotional bursts,
and can feel some degree of empathy, it may arguably fit Lou’s character better.
So, simplicity - just keep that in mind. Now, as it unsurprisingly turns
out, you can absolutely act, shoot, and play psychopathy in a film. The issue
isn’t in whether it’s possible or not, but in how you use them together. And that’s what
makes Louis Bloom such a riveting character: the perfect collaboration among different cinematic
details found in every aspect of filmmaking, including the narrative arc, the score, the
camera work, and even the script itself. For instance, take a look at this scene between Lou and Nina,
the news director to whom Lou sells his footage. Now, Nina is here merely for the
sake of professional courtesy, and also because Lou passive aggressively
threatened her about selling to the competitors if she didn't. Lou, on the other hand, has
a very specific reason for taking Nina out: in a nutshell, he wants to sleep with her. With that, listen to how the conversation starts. 'My body’s so off I feel like it’s time for breakfast.' 'I bet you're beautiful any time of the day'. 'I’d say you’re much prettier than Lisa Mays.' While Nina tries to ease up the awkward tension,
Lou gets straight to the point. That’s why the first round ends with a nervous laughter
- a sign of discomfort, not appreciation. Now, watch how Lou responds to this signal. 'I like the dark make-up on your eyes.
I also like the way you smell.' This line is significant for a number of reasons. First, it is clear that Lou cannot and does
not intend to read the room. Second, his words suggest that he does not see Nina as a
person, but as a tool. The so-called compliment he gives Nina is nothing but descriptive and surface
level. He has no interest in getting to know her; instead, he simply wants to possess
her for her most outwardly attributes. The longer this scene carries on, the more evident
it becomes that there is something off about Lou, from the unnatural timing of his laughs,
forceful questioning, to fixation with food, sex, and money. As a matter of fact, you
can tell the exact moment Lou shifts his focus inward by looking at when the camera
switches to a choker close-up shot. Naturally, the two instances of the choker shots are
where the most pivotal dialogue happens, with Lou openly threatening Nina with his
demands. Therefore, it’s safe to say that while there is a sense of balance in the numerous
shot-reverse shots present in this scene, there is no true connection between the two
characters as most of the shots visually separate them. Even when you do get a two shot,
it’s either when Nina is desperately trying to make sense of what Lou is saying, or when Lou is
waiting for Nina to respond to his blunt remarks. 'Because as I’m sure you know...' 'a friend is a gift you give yourself.' Now, what you just saw is one of
the highlights of Nightcrawler, where the film decides to plainly reveal
Lou’s true color. But early on, the film draws his character in a more subtle way by solely
implying his apathetic nature. For this example, which happens just 5 minutes into the film,
I’m going to show you the script first before sharing the actual scene. Take a minute to read
the following, and see how you feel about it. Ready? I assume most people won’t
find this monologue peculiar; it reads like a self introduction -
a resume - and a rather compelling one at that. But watch what happens
when Lou actually speaks the lines. Suddenly, every word sounds like a red flag.
Why is that? The way Lou carries himself doesn’t help,
and the tempo of the delivery - as if he memorized and rehearsed the lines a million times -
doesn’t help either. But most importantly, it’s because this speech is strategically written
as a writing: it is meant to be read, not spoken. A typical informal speech is conversational,
less structured, and tends to have repeating words and fillers with longer pauses. What
Lou does here is the complete opposite: it is formal, structured, with little to
no repetition and hesitation. The only thing that is repeatedly used is the word
‘sir’, which, amidst the carefully chosen vocabulary, just feels like something Lou
deliberately included to pretend informality. However, the most intriguing part of
this scene comes after the speech, when the owner of the scrapyard says, “I’m not hiring a f-ing thief” ...and Lou reacts with... Few things to take away from this reaction.
First, it shows that Lou is not affected emotionally by the remark; instead, he sees this
as a necessary attribute a responsible employer must have. Second, this tells the audience
that Lou realizes in this moment not that he cannot be a thief as an employee, but that
he must not hire thieves as an employer. Also, note that this doesn’t equate
to a gesture of respect; again, every encounter is a learning process for him,
a gathering of information. The interaction wasn’t a failure because
it’s always about Lou, and never about the other person. There is a wonderful scene around half way
into the film that beautifully illustrates this focus Lou carries with his identity.
Lou’s relationship with KWLA has become more solid by this time, and Nina sees him as one
of her most reliable business partners. Now, when Nina hands over the cheque in
this scene, Lou suddenly talks about - 'framing'? Okay. You may think that this simply demonstrates
Lou’s obsessive passion for his work, but there’s more to this preface than meets the eye -
because what directly follows this is... "Is that blood on your shirt?" This line itself isn’t
special, but the framing is. If you go back to the moment Nina hands Lou
the cheque, the camera actually captures Lou’s shirt for a brief second. This is the
only time the audience gets to see the shirt, but many people will probably miss the
blood, because this particular framing divides the emphasis between the cheque and
the shirt, causing neither to be at the center of your attention. The result is a quick
neutral image that some people will catch, and others will not. Note that it’s after
this initial display that the film shows Nina looking down at Lou’s shirt, and after this
glance that she finally brings up the blood - an order of presentation that seems flipped from
the conventional storytelling perspective. For the rest of the scene, too, the camera never
cuts to Lou’s shirt again, despite having the characters constantly redirect their attention
or the conversation to the blood. Now, this part doesn’t have much to do with
the framing technique Lou was referring to, but it does have something to do with targeting. It’s saying that the story has moved on,
and therefore, the committed act of crime from the previous scene has no place under
the spotlight, compelling the audience to focus on Lou’s current status - that he has yet again
proven his abilities, and has earned the trust of his partners. In a similar manner, the scene is
also displaying Lou’s single mindedness - that he only cares about his own success, and not the
morality of his actions that bring him there. And if you think about it, this kind of
framing applies to the rest of the film as well. While Lou may take great pride in
his works, going as far as manipulating the site of the accident to create the perfect
shot, the audience rarely gets to see the incidents in as much detail as he does,
leaving them thirsty for more - ...or not. This is just one of many balances the film creates
for itself. Nightcrawler’s impact depends on symmetry - a constant presence of counterbalance
to the unchanging evil that is Louis Bloom. Now, obviously, nothing in this film can
totally cancel out Lou’s depravity; but just like how your thirst for the horrific
images may diminish your hate for Lou, there are things in this film that at least
have the potential to lessen your repulsion to the character or the story itself.
And you’ve already seen some of them. Although very deceptive and minimal in effect,
the repeating shot of Lou watering the plant does add a human touch to his character. Likewise,
the people around Lou tend to share his sense of immorality to varying degrees to dampen
our sensitivity to the on-screen atrocities. The scrapyard owner ends up buying from Lou for
profit despite knowing that they are all stolen; the store owner catches Lou’s bluff
and likely assumes the bike isn’t his, but still accepts it; Nina pretty much supports
everything Lou does for her own success; and even Rick tries to blackmail Lou
for money, although this one is in all likelihood more justified than other examples.
But unlike Lou, they have clear boundaries; and the film makes sure to highlight it. In
spite of their wrongdoings, the owners want nothing to do with Lou and try their hardest to
get him off their property; Rick, like I said, clearly was mistreated for the longest time;
and even the notorious Nina freaks out when Lou threatens her, saying that friends would
never pressure friends into sleeping with them. Lou is a completely self-sustaining entity in
this film. The people that come and go in his life may act as a mitigator, but in no way are
they in the same field as him. Lou may talk, smile, and act a certain way to come
across as a kind, hardworking man, but is in no shape or form,
an actually loving person. He does not change. That’s why the film opens up with Lou attacking
and stealing from an innocent security guard - to make sure that the audience doesn’t think
Lou is turning evil over time. He always has been, and will always be. Again, it’s all about Lou,
and never about the others. And what packages the entire film at the end
as a hopelessly self-centered story is the score. When Nightcrawler first released
in theaters, there were many complaints about the film’s choice of music and how
unfitting they were. Indeed, the music does often contradict the mood of the scene,
playing hopeful tunes in dreadful situations, a grandiose melody for a vulgar speech, etc. And
while the complaints are justified in this sense, I personally never felt that the score
was unfitting, because Nightcrawler never intends to use music to describe the scene;
it uses them to reflect Lou’s perspective. One of my favourite examples of this
is when Lou suddenly gives a dramatic speech about dreams in the middle of his
walk back to the front desk to get paid. Nina’s already not vibing with
the flow break - I love it. Let’s be clear about two things:
first, if you haven’t seen the film, this was not the time for such a speech;
second, Lou is absolutely not being emotional. It’s another one of his rehearsed pretensions that
he simply delivered at the wrong time and place. But listen to the music. It is just as cringey and melodramatic as the speech itself. Why? Because Lou believes
his speech to have such an effect on Nina. 'On TV it looks so real' 'Yes, it does' The same goes for the next big sequence, where Lou gets one of his best footage to date by
getting to the location before anyone else. He promptly takes out his camera, proceeds to move the body, and films it like it’s an ultimate act of sacrifice
for the betterment of humanity or...something... and the music reflects that. In fact, pretty much every critical sequence
of Nightcrawler, up until the very last second, uses music that is, quote on quote,
unfitting to its mood, because Lou is incapable of assessing the environment and
the people. If the music, (and honestly, the film itself) is supposed to echo the POV of
such antisocial character, it is no wonder why it would always sound exaggerated, awkward, or
even theatrical, if not downright out of place. This is the music that plays as Lou tells Rick
why he basically murdered him just now, by the way. The more you know. It’s possible that the discordant melodies of
Nightcrawler simultaneously seem familiar because it mirrors a part of the world Lou follows to
learn this basic social language: television. His cadence, choice of words, and interjections
all are vaguely reminiscent of the many public personas he follows on a daily basis,
with his overdramatic and often out place laughter coming straight from the manufactured canned laughter
used in one of the TV shows he watched. Every comma, and every beat of Lou’s existence, from a passing line to a visual
insert, fills itself with significance. The artificiality and the almost perverted
sense of optimism Lou emits through his words and actions are carried over to the
camera and the setting that envelope him; you may think that this burdens the viewers with
the same question of morality since they are now placed in Lou’s shoes, but that is not the case.
This expansion of voyeuristic behavior from one fictional character to an entire group
of people watching the film still holds the same one person to be in charge: Louis Bloom. He is the protagonist of this story,
albeit a villainous one - hitting lines on cues, being under the spotlight, playing the song of triumph as he
heroically progresses through the world. And we are simply watching it all unfold. What better way to convey a
psychopathic character than to have the film itself manipulated and fooled? Thanks for watching. Hello everyone, thank you so much for watching
this video till the end; I initially wanted to talk about multiple films to discuss
cinema’s portrayal of characters with ASPD, but upon rewatching Nightcrawler, I realized
there are just one too many things to discuss from this film alone, and had to let go of
other great examples like the infamous No Country for Old Men, and the lesser talked
about film that I really wanted to discuss, We Need to Talk About Kevin, which, if you’re in
Canada like I am, you can watch right now on Mubi, the sponsor for today’s video.
MUBI is an online, curated cinema streaming service dedicated to elevating great
cinema from all around the globe, ranging from works of iconic directors all the way to emerging
auteurs. And since every film is hand-picked, it’s a great way to watch films you already love and
also discover new films you haven’t seen before. Like I said, We Need to Talk about Kevin is
an incredibly visual film that deals with very dark themes involving a character that
would be considered having a form of ASPD, and the way the film builds on this
idea is just astonishing - I won’t spoil anything but I highly recommend you
check it out on Mubi - you can get a free 30 day trial at Mubi.com/spikimamovies. That’s
Mubi.com/spikimamovies- so go check it out, let me know what you thought about
the film, and that’s it for me.
