All Rights Reserved. why would anyone? As Paradise Hills lurches through its third act, it goes off the rails completely, trading twists for anything remotely coherent. Covering the hottest movie and TV topics that fans want. And the films simple narrative and obvious symbolism create a solid foundation for the more outr aspects. The editing by Guillermo de la Cal provides little relief, as a number of the cuts linger on for a second or more too late, neutralizing any sense of rhythm between exposition and action. In dressing both the patients and operators of Paradise Hills in garb from grossly romanticized eras in history that most reinforce this antiquated understanding of both gender and gender roles (as well as eras that prioritize both whiteness and heterosexuality), Waddington is hinting at one of the most important theses in her film. None of Paradises guests are there voluntarily, information Uma learns from her new roommates Yu (Awkwafina) and Chloe (Danielle Macdonald). The plot almost holds no surprise in store until the very end. The movie bluntly comes out against the societal pressures on women to conform to patriarchal expectations but without the tact of The Handmaids Tale to wrap it into an allegorical warning or shape them into the thrilling reveals in The Stepford Wives. When the movie begins to spell out its message instead of trusting the audience to figure it out for themselves, it loses its luster and a part of what makes this genre so fun to watch. Instead, Alice Waddingtons movie is content to crib from The Prisoner, The Stepford Wives, and The Hunger Games without bothering to understand or engage with the subtext of those stories. Paradise Hills is disturbing but rarely violent, and although theres implicit sexual coercion in Uma being sent to a reform school until shes willing to marry, its muted. Therapy runs the gamut from soul-breaking chats with The Duchess to truly demented exercises that involve a giant carousel horse. But because the subtext of the film is so limp and distant, the aesthetics appear superfluous. Rococo is often emblematized by paintings by Jean-Honor Fragonard, especially The Swing which depicts a woman wearing a voluminous pink gown swaying into midair. Uma then sees the Duchess feeding on Chloe's body, revealing herself to be basically a vampire who feeds on the residents of Paradise Hills to revive herself. The facility has been taking 'lowers' and through extensive surgeries, turning them into their residents to become the perfect, obedient versions. . Paradise Hills, like Nosedive, projects this Rococo aesthetic into the future, distorting its utopian images of privileged subjectivity and highlighting its confluence of power and pleasure. Danielle Macdonald's Chloe is sent there because her wealthy family wants her skinnier. Uma has, of course, been forced into The Duchess loony paradise because she refuses to marry dum-dum Son, a rich kid (in Paradise Hills parlance, an upper) who might help her tarnished family rise out of their financial rubble. Much like the pretty but sinister pastel dystopia of Black Mirrors Nosedive, the visual world of Paradise Hills has strong ties to Rococo, the 18th century French artistic movement that favoured fluffy, ornate images of aristocratic leisure. Uma and Ana escape in a rowing boat as the facility is destroyed, and Ana explains how she came to work for Paradise Hills: "I tried to take care of my two little brothers, but 16 hours a day working in a factory, it wasn't enough. Visit CHIRP Radio on LinkedIn. A Cult Classic and an Oversaturated Remake. Alice Waddington 's feature debut "Paradise Hills" certainly leaves an aesthetic impression but has a number of filmmaking missteps. But rebellious pop star Amarna (Eiza Gonzlez) suspects theres something sinister afoot, and she agrees to help Uma get out. The sci-fi thriller follows an unruly young woman of the future who's sent to a re-education camp for young ladies to become more docile and compliant. (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)/*