Effective in the immersion it creates, Larrain's Spencer deploys a regimented and precisely arranged formalism that enshrouds its main subject in a sense of confinement before she even appears on screen for the first time. Restriction, repetition, and desolation juxtaposed against opulence and power, Spencer is an intriguing psychological horror film in which the lines between reality and perception become entangled. Not a shy film, Spencer's audio and visual techniques aim to be expressive, featuring surrealist flourishes and abrasive non-diegetic sounds in the form of strings to really push the audience towards a sense of understanding of this character's inner turmoil. One could certainly argue the film could have been more subtle but Stewart does great work here that helps alleviate some of Larrain's proclivities to be brash that border on overindulgence and even outright camp. Larrain's use of the close-up is two-fold, providing a sense of intimacy as the camera's gaze attempts to excavate the internalized struggle of Diane while also reinforcing the sense of confinement that enshrouds this film's aesthetic and formal sensibilities. Subservience to tradition and expectation; psychological imprisonment and the lack of release in which spontaneity, autonomy, and even outward displays of affection are suppressed.
Love of all things cinema brought me here.