The Anatomy of a Sociopath: Why Nightcrawler Remains the Most Disturbing Film of the Decade
We are used to Hollywood giving us anti-heroes. We love characters who do bad things for good reasons, or flawed protagonists seeking redemption. But every once in a while, a film comes along that refuses to give us a moral compass. Instead, it drops us into the passenger seat with a pure, unadulterated sociopath and locks the doors.
It is the astonishing terror of darkness that defines the brilliance of Dan Gilroy's 2014 work titled Nightcrawler. Technically speaking, it is not a traditional horror film, and yet I hardly remember any movie that made me feel as disturbed as I did watching this one. This is a work to read if you wish to study the most gloomy secrets of human psychology and the harsh nature of modern media.
The Psychology of the Ultimate Parasite
The film follows Louis Bloom, a desperate, hollow man who discovers the underground world of "stringing"—freelance journalists who monitor police scanners, race to the scenes of horrific accidents or crimes, and film the carnage to sell to local morning news stations.
What makes Lou Bloom (as performed with career-defining intensity by Jake Gyllenhaal) so compelling is not that he is lunatic madman but that he is frighteningly polite. He communicates strictly in the corporate jargon that he studied and self-help platitudes that he learned online. When he sees a bleeding victim of a crash, instead of recognizing human suffering, he understands it as a business opportunity.
For someone fascinated by cognitive biases and psychology, watching Lou manipulating everyone around him is captivating. He capitalizes on desperation of his deeply indebted assistant, Rick, and on the failing career of a local news director, Nina. He does not violate the rules of capitalism; rather, he applies them to extreme.
The Mirror Held to Society
The true horror of Nightcrawler isn't just Louis Bloom. The film forces us to realize that monsters like Lou don't exist in a vacuum; they are created and rewarded by a society that demands blood with its morning coffee.
Nina, looking after the news department, explains Lou about how she keeps her eye on what makes the perfect broadcast, describing it as "a screaming woman running down the road with her throat cut." The broadcast professionals understand that people are drawn to horror stories. As the movie comes to an end, you realize that the real villain is not the man who holds the camera. In fact, we, the viewers, are the ones who keep supporting Lou.
A Masterclass in Visual Tension
In terms of visuals, this film is really impressive. The cinematography portrays Los Angeles as an impressive, beautiful, yet dangerous place. The streets at night are empty but dangerous in a way that they feel like a predatory territory. The tempo is initially slow and gradually catches pace until it is at a breathless climax that leaves viewers gasping in their seats.
If you haven't seen Nightcrawler yet, you need to take a closer look at it. The film is a wonderful criticism of media ethics, an excellent thriller, and a great lesson about the bad man getting away with his crimes, and receiving a reward for it.