[TV REVIEW] BRAND NEW CHERRY FLAVOUR

15/9/2021

Brand New Cherry Flavour pulls it off by introducing layer upon layer of ambiguity: even the most execrable characters -and there are depths of shit here that some might find difficult to wade through- are, ultimately, human, and have histories and traumas that elevate them from mere antagonists or receptacles for divine justice. It would have been so, so easy for this show to have fallen into a binary dynamic; a war between protagonist and antagonist that merely escalates as the show goes on.

Brand New Cherry Flavour
by George Daniel Lea

It's best to acknowledge right off the bat that this one is going to divide the crowd; it is consciously and deliberately divisive, appealing to a very particular -and oddly finite- audience. Those that it does not speak to or who don't understand the influences it's drawing on will have a difficult, frustrating time with it, and even some of those who do may find the brazenness of its references and influences too stark or derivative.

That said, for those who ache for a certain kind of horror media; for a deviance and transgression that is often either lacking or poorly handled, this may be just the tonic the witch cooked up in her cauldron:

From its title on down, the show is a collage of horror, science fiction and outre cinema influences thrown together in the format of a television show. In terms of setting, cinematography, storytelling and theme, it's David Lynch, its most clear and overt influence being Mulholland Drive, though it also strays into Twin Peaks and even, occasionally, Blue Velvet territory. In terms of lighting, back-mythology and metaphysics, it's Darion Argento (this could easily fit into Argento's own “witches” trilogy, it's most obvious influence being Suspiria, several scenes from which it directly homages).

Other influences? How long have you got?: Stephen King, Clive Barker, Quentin Tarantino, Stanley Kubrick. . .hey, why not a bit of Cronenbergian body horror to round things out? The list goes on. There is a certain insular, hyper-aware quality to the work, in that it is a cinematic TV series about Hollywood, the cinema industry and the myriad corruptions and perversities that constitute them. For some, this has proven far too direct and autobiographical; the tale of corruption in Hollywood and the predatory culture it has accrued with regards to young women is hardly novel fare these days. At the same time, despite its familiarity, there is also an esoteric element to the culture it draws that may be alienating to some (especially given that said culture is so wholly execrable).

However, for those of us who enjoy a little sewer-trawling, a little muck-raking in our horror (most notably those of us who are fans of excoriations such as that provided in Barker's Coldheart Canyon, which proves another seminal influence), there really is nothing like this: for all its light and colour, for all its passion and erotic energy, there is sincere muck here; the kind of filth that gets under your skin, behind your eyes and makes you want to flay yourself raw and bathe in bleach. There's a toothsome, textural quality to the light and oppulence and privilege of high Hollywood that is couterpointed by the sheer depths of dirt it wallows in, and it is as pruriently wonderful as it is repulsive.

Therein lies the key tension of Brand New Cherry Flavour: no one escapes unscathed. Simply by existing and operating in this culture, within these systems, everyone is diseased, tainted. So, when you have a protagonist -Lisa Nova- who is a species of avenging angel who wants to tear it all down from the inside for the wrongs done to her, it's hard not to get caught up in the swell of that vengeance as she herself does, especially when supernatural elements come into play.

However, the show isn't about to let her -or its audience- off the hook so easily; beyond the unhealthy metaphysics she courts in order to get her revenge -a species of occultism and witchery not a million miles away from those that predominate Argento's films-, she is also revealed to be a tainted and corrupt soul, with her own host of sins to atone for.

This is an extremely difficult dynamic for any TV show to walk; incorporating characters none of whom are entirely sympathetic, all of whom are corrupt and broken and worthy of punishment in their own peculiar ways, can have the effect of alienating the audience, providing no anchor or or point of identification.

However, Brand New Cherry Flavour pulls it off by introducing layer upon layer of ambiguity: even the most execrable characters -and there are depths of shit here that some might find difficult to wade through- are, ultimately, human, and have histories and traumas that elevate them from mere antagonists or receptacles for divine justice. It would have been so, so easy for this show to have fallen into a binary dynamic; a war between protagonist and antagonist that merely escalates as the show goes on.

However, that isn't Brand New Cherry Flavour's bag; despite the influences it clearly draws on, it isn't particularly interested in giving the audience what they expect or even particulaely want. Rather, once the element of ritual magic is mooted, it happily starts introducing elements and scenarios that are baffling to the point of surreal (if I say that the protagonist's penchant for periodically vomiting live kittens is perhaps one of the least strange circumstances to crop up, maybe you'll get some idea of what the show is all about).

The patently Lynchian storytelling the show adopts will largely determine whether viewers respond to it or not. At times, it may be so baffling or bizarre as to alienate or confuse. For others, it may merely come off as an aesthetic rather than mythological choice; a patina of strangeness and absurdity rather than a quality bred in the show's bones. There are times when, perhaps, the show revels in its own superficial strangeness a little too much, but that glee is rarely anything less than infectious. It also enjoys tension in a way that many audience members may not: there are moments in the show that rival Quentin Tarantino's legendarily loaded dialogues in terms of their subtexts and the fraughtness bubbling away just beneath the surface (standouts include a scenario in which local magic practitioner, Boro, is revealed to be a missing woman named Jennifer, who has a family and children that have been searching for her over a year or more. Reintroduced to said family, there is a dinner scene that is nothing less than seat-squirming, as tensions unravel, accusations fly, mysteries are revealed and Boro herself revels in the distress and emotional carnage she precipitates).

However, unlike the Lynchian tales it draws inspiration from, Brand New Cherry Flavour does, ultimately, provide mythological justification for even its most absurd elements (even the “vomiting cats” phenomena has a justification, of sorts, which becomes apparent towards the end).

In this, the show could be accused of undermining its own strangeness or maybe even of narrative cowardice; unlike Lynch himself, who often doesn't bother to explain anything beyond subtle suggestions or implications, here, mysteries are resolved, absurdities are explained and a much more coherent, traditional narrative becomes apparent beneath the surface gloss of surrealism and absurdity.

That said, the gloss itself is powerful enough to lend the show a lustre all its own, its cinemaphile's adoration of what it also excoriates so deep and pronounced that it's difficult not to get caught up in its enthusiasm.

For some, the show may be too meager in its revelations, whilst for others, the revelations themselves might seem incongruous or unsatisfying, given the ambition its influences imply. The show could have resisted going with clean-cut answers or expository scenes, certainly in this first season, leaving some of its strangeness and absurdity to hang or be picked over by its audience.

That said, the tensions the show draws between its characters are complex and satisfying, the superficial grue and grotesquery is luscious and joyously rendered. There are some sincerely distressing, creepy set pieces as well as moments of tension that are intensely real and powerfully unpleasant (abuse is a consistent theme throughout, so be warned).

As an aesthetic exercise, it's a distressingly beautiful piece of work, if not massively original: whilst it does distinguish itself from most other shows of its ilk and on the platforms it flatters, the overtness of its influences means those audience members sufficiently versed in the cinema it references may find it too derivative. The nature of its storytelling is pleasantly strange and almost nightmare-like at times, but does resolve itself too cleanly and too quickly, leaving one or two threads hanging for a potential second season.

That said, this represents a form of horror that is often all too lacking in visual media (at least outside of independent and small-market video games): that which foregoes established templates and genre proscriptions in favour of something wild and experimental. At times, it feels like a violent, erotic thriller, at times, an angry parable of social justice. Others, it is a supernatural horror, others, a bleakly hilarious dark fantasy. Characters react and respond in variously unexpected and strange ways that leave their motivations -not to mention their states of mind- in serious question, often accepting the sudden occurrence of magic and dark miracles in a manner that is deliberately underplayed. In this manner, Hollywood itself becomes a haunted garden; a place where there are secrets lingering beneath the plastic-fantastic veneer, the synthetic systems that chew people up and spit them out on a regular basis.

The show has no clear or defined central thesis as such; no concrete or identifable thread that runs from beginning to end (in the manner of Breaking Bad et al). Rather, it takes concerns and settings and themes and concepts and blends them together into a luridly-coloured, compellingly grotesque soup, often leaving it up to the audience as to where their loyalties lie (or what interpretation of the material they take away).

If there is consistent element, it is in the almost-universal corruption of proscribed systems, be this in the form of the predatory cultures of Hollywood (that devour and abuse talent to such a degree the notion becomes meaningless) or the ritual magic that characters become swept up in (which ultimately reveals itself to be another form of control and abuse).

The show does not allow for either its characters or the audience to get away with clean or easy answers; ambiguities abound. Whilst magic, by virtue of its existence, might seem like the ultimate instrument of liberation, it is ultimately revealed as a corrupt and predatory practice, relying upon suffering and sacrifice in a manner not dissimilar from the systems of Hollywood itself. That the show has the wherewithall to draw this comparison and sidestep the impending binary that could have rendered it too simplistic is notable, as it demonstrates a consciousness within the writing that simply will not allow for solipsism or pat moral conclusions.

By this pilot-season's conclusion, the notion of clean-cut loyalties or agendas becomes near-redundant; everyone, from the naïve and flailing protagonist Lisa Nova to the ancient and seemingly-immortal Boro, are lost in their own desperations and confusions, such that the former appears to excise herself from the narrative at its culmination (though whether that is truly the case remains to be seen).

So, mileage will certainly vary with this one: it is a cineliterate, intelligent, acute piece of work that also has a great sense of fun and enthusiasm for its subject matter. Performances are universally excellent -Rosa Salazaar and Catherine Keener are absolute stand-outs, here-, set-pieces are stylish and strange and often distressing. The visions of grotesquery and surrealism are compelling, especially with regards to Boro's peculiar form of sympathetic witchcraft, and the Hollywood setting allows for enough in the way of banal dirt and filth to anchor the show in some sense of identifiable reality.

However, it is deliberately designed to be esoteric; it will appeal strongly to those who enjoy its myriad influences and the peculiar aesthetics that are its strongest suite. For those starved of a little strangeness in their visual horror, it will provide a treat as sweet as its title. For others, it will certainly prove alienating, as this is precisely what its creators intend.

For my part, I enjoyed it enormously, as I am one of those who takes great pleasure in recognising the references that occur almost from scene to scene, as well as in the often-foetid and lurid subject matter (there is a sincere horror-connoisseur's cornucopia of body-horror grotesquery, physical mutilation, violence, transformation, ritual weirdness and more than one can shake a barely-born kitten at throughout). I found its deviance and tendency towards transgression engaging and cannily handled, the imagery it plays with my peculiar kind of weirdness and its willingness to make its characters suffer -and boy, do they suffer- amusing in a near-the-knuckle, sadistic fashion. Is there a message hidden somewhere amongst the grotesquery, the style and eroticism? Yes. Several, in fact; the most pertinent being an excoriation of how the film industry treats women, particularly those who are young and talented.

But, the show is more consumed by its imagery and aesthetics than any inherent meaning. It would rather the audience piece together their own significance, based on whatever they happen to take from the visions it presents. In that, it may be too inchoate or lacking in clarity for some, in the same manner that the host of influences it blends together may rob it of definition and identity for others.

A compelling experiment; fascinatingly bizarre, though it does occasionally sag under the pressure of its maintaining its own strangeness. Whether or not it can capitalise on its own overtly cult status and designs remains to be seen, largely depending on if, when and in what manner season 2 comports itself.