The film is split into two distinct acts. is devastatingly raw. We meet teenage Celeste (Raffey Cassidy) as she survives a school shooting. At a memorial, she sings a haunting original song, and the world mistakes her trauma for talent. Suddenly, she’s not a victim; she’s a product. This first hour is gripping, uncomfortable, and features some of the best child acting in years.
Watching Vox Lux feels like standing too close to a speaker at a stadium pop concert: it’s loud, disorienting, occasionally brilliant, and ultimately numbing. Brady Corbet’s operatic tragedy isn’t really a music biopic. It’s a horror film about the birth of modern fame—specifically, the kind of fame that eats its young and spits out a hollowed, sequined shell. Vox Lux
Vox Lux is a fascinating failure for some, a visionary masterpiece for others. It asks: What if a trauma survivor became a monster, and we all bought tickets? It doesn’t offer answers, just a glittery, screaming void. See it for Raffey Cassidy’s dual performance (she also plays Celeste’s daughter in Act II) and Portman’s fearless commitment. Just don’t expect to feel good about pop music ever again. The film is split into two distinct acts
Portman is terrifyingly good—not in a glamorous way, but in a way that captures the exhausted, drug-dulled, narcissistic meltdown of someone who peaked at 14. She struts, snarls, and slurs her way through the role. You can’t look away, but you also don’t want to get close. At a memorial, she sings a haunting original
Grade: B+ (for ambition) / C- (for enjoyment)