Written by Andreas Babiolakis

Remember when Terence Fletcher attacked his students for any of the false notes or pacing issues they displayed in the acclaimed drama Whiplash? Well, he would outright murder Babylon. He would kick it in its shins and punch it in the back of the head on its way down, not even bothering to check if it is okay. Damien Chazelle was once known as a filmmaker that worked with precision and with all of the fat trimmed off. I do not know how we arrived at Babylon: a gargantuan misfire from one of cinema’s most promising fresh faces who set the record for the youngest director to ever win an Academy Award (for La La Land). What is unfortunate is how many signs of a much better film are present here, and I’ll be sure to cover those high points when appropriate. I genuinely was enjoying portions of Babylon, and even feeling my eyes well up when necessary. However, what is most important is this unshakeable feeling of frustration with this picture, as I felt like I couldn’t figure out what it was trying to say in its bloated three hour run time.

Once Babylon decides to get going (after the beautiful opening of an elephant literally shitting on assistants that are bringing it to a Hollywood party, and after the Fellini-esque celebration full of drugs and orgies that completely miss how the Italian filmmaker best captured the high life), we have a handful of sprawling stories which usually intertwine with one another. Manny Torres (one of the poor souls that was defecated on by the pachyderm) bumps into Nellie LaRoy: an aspiring star that has given everything up to try and take on Hollywood herself. Silent Film Star Jack Conrad is a signal of the generation of old as he parties the hardest; he communicates with pop culture journalist Elinor St. John frequently enough in the picture, who is also older and commenting on the next wave of filmmaking and stardom. Sidney Palmer is a budding trumpeter that is also trying to find a place in show business. We can keep going through each character, because there are quite a few, but it seems clear — at first — that Babylon is about the chaos of Hollywood and the uphill battles necessary to get to the top of that mountain (and how quickly the stars of old come tumbling down to their demise).

But that isn’t really the bigger picture at all. In fact, I’m not sure what it is at all. The film takes place during the transitory period of Hollywood when silent films transformed into talking pictures, and when the industry got bludgeoned by the Hays Code, amongst other turning points. However, all of these events are covered like a pair of tired eyes skimming through a Wikipedia article: with surface level amounts of retention and depth. In the entirety of these three hours, we don’t get anything new that Singin’ in the Rain didn’t already tell us about the struggles that Hollywood faced when sound came into the picture (and, believe me, much of Babylon is indebted to the Stanley Donen, Gene Kelly musical, down to the downright usage of the film’s clips in the final scene). The Hays Code being implemented is extremely minor in the film, especially since we veer away from sequences of actual filmmaking afterward (you can say that LaRoy got by via taboo methods that are definitely Pre-Code in nature, but this hardly matters when her career declines because of other reasons, including her abrasive voice and poor choices in her personal life).

I only went into two of the film’s topics and can easily dispel all of the rest, but it isn’t worth it. Basically, almost everything Babylon shows is half baked as an idea, and it aches to see because there is clearly something profound here. I did notice how Olivia Wilde (as Conrad’s soon-to-be ex-wife) was barely in the film despite its gigantic run time, and it had me wondering just how much footage there was in the first place (if these puffy three hours still feel too long, and yet this was the shortest it could feasibly be, apparently). What stories were rendered incomplete due to the amount of splices? What characters and ideas barely exist or were taken out in their entirety? I am not pointing fingers at the editor, Tom Cross, who actually does a great job with pacing and cutting (enough to make this film at least not feel boring, anyway). I’m actually frustrated with Damien Chazelle’s screenwriting here, because there clearly wasn’t a coherent purpose to this project outside of the director’s adoration for motion pictures. Look, I get it. I have my own film review website because of the same passion, but if you can’t effectively convey what you’re trying to say to your audience in three hours, then that’s not a good sign whatsoever.

To give you an idea of how hectically confused Babylon is, here are all of the different topics and story points that are covered to varying levels of completion:

-The shift from silent films to talkies
-The Hays Code
-Racism in the film industry
-Sexism in the film industry
-Drug addiction and alcoholism on a massive scale
-Over-spending of funds, be they budgets or personal earnings
-Hollywood tabloid culture
-The purpose music serves in film
-The pursuance of innovation in film
-Gambling debts
-Existentialism
-And so, so, so much more

Is Chazelle trying to comment on the self destruction of the film industry? The dichotomy between the terrors on set and the magic that leaps off the screen that audiences get to enjoy? The high life shebangs that the elite enjoy? I can’t even tell if the loss here comes from the end of the partying phases or the lack of involvement with the actual film industry (or both). When Babylon depicts the upper class so hideously (and it really does, down to the expulsion of vomit that would make Triangle of Sadness proud), why are we yearning for that? Do we really feel like we’re missing out when stars get bitten by snakes that they are trying to fight under the influence? Are we jealous of the nasty orgies that scream “herpes” louder than the wailing trumpets to the right of the fornication? Babylon is clearly named after the Mesopotamian empire and its scope and dominance, depicting Hollywood as the capital of the world for a little bit. Even if everything was exactly as shown here, Chazelle doesn’t exactly go for recreating the roaring 20s as much as he invents the mandril-shrieking 20s.

Babylon is a highly excessive affair, and it’s off putting for so much of its duration. In similarly depraved films like The Wolf of Wall Street, we at least get concrete storytelling underneath the debauchery. Babylon functions more like a handful of vignettes. Unlike, say, Licorice Pizza (where these one-off scenarios are sewn together by the fleeting sensation of being young and discovering that one will never have life figured out even as they enter adulthood), Babylon just has crazy stuff happening because it can. It is incredibly unfortunate seeing Chazelle actually have some great ideas as a filmmaker, including a crisp tone and tons of electrifying sensationalism that feels infectious, but Damien Chazelle the director cannot stop Damien Chazelle the writer from destroying the picture. There are too many ideas that are barely realized, too many moments that feel try-hard, and too many events that feel the need to pad this picture out even more than it needs to be. The opening being a half hour long is an example of this. The next sequence being a day in the life of film industry personnel is an interesting concept, especially with each storyline getting juxtaposed with one another, and the eventual reunion between LaRoy and Torres is touching. I thought I was actually going to like this picture.

Until it kept going, and going, and going, and it proceeded to lose all of its focus on any central topics of discussion. By the intense climax (which actually reads quite well but feels so foolishly out of place in this particular picture, alligator and all), I was actually beyond annoyed, despite loving other moments (including LaRoy’s awful amount of takes during her first talking picture production, which is edited fantastically well and has its own story to tell). Each story contains its own purpose. Every element on screen and in post production is done with the utmost professionalism (swearing and all). It’s just the lack of any purpose that kills Babylon, and it makes every single possibility for significance collapse. Once you reach the admittedly breathtaking montage that wraps up the film — one full of many of the innovations in film history that came before and after the events of Babylon — you may temporarily feel like Babylon meant something. No. It doesn’t. Tossing in everything and the kitchen sink of an era, scene, or industry without any structure is just a collage and not a story.

The only true semblance in this film on any linear level (outside of the character arcs, which are actually pretty reasonably done here) is Justin Hurwitz’s score, which is the real star of the feature. His reoccurring themes are all strongly written, era appropriate (I felt transported quite frequently during Babylon because of the music alone), and the true heart of many scenes that would have felt frigid otherwise. I champion this film’s core to the moon and back. Again, I must also reiterate that I do actually like (and love) certain sequences and elements of Babylon, and I can foresee myself revisiting them via clips on YouTube in the near future (once they’re there), but I have to look at Babylon as a whole. It’s all well and good to love steak tartare, guacamole, rocky road ice cream, Jaeger bomb shots, sour cherry blaster candies, and caesar salad all on their own. Should you shove all of these tastes into one dish (or, God forbid, blend them), you may be in for a long night full of nausea and pain.

Babylon is a love letter that doesn’t know when to quit to unhealthy extents. It’s nice to see gifted filmmakers getting free reign, but there still needs to be a vision. Outside of cinephillia, why does Babylon exist? It feels like I’ve read a thesis that’s over a thousand pages long without a point, and it forces me not to appreciate any of the good points that I put the work into familiarizing myself with. As someone that is a huge fan of films about filmmaking, the industry, and the love of motion pictures, and someone that appreciates Damien Chazelle (and will still look forward to his next project), I can’t emphasize how disappointed I am with Babylon: a collection of goodness massacred by the inability to hone them all into something tangible or fully realized. In case you couldn’t tell by my endlessly written review, I’m incredibly disheartened by Babylon: what could have — and should have — been Chazelle’s magnum opus, but is instead unquestionably his first dud.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.