The circle of hell comes around nicely in Del Toro’s version of the carnival movie Nightmare Alley

He doesn’t say a word to the showman who takes him on, somewhere in the gray American no man’s land of 1939. Nor does he say anything to the freak show owner who offers him a place to sleep, among the fetuses in spirits. The first words that bum Stanton Carlisle utters in Guillermo Del Toro’s Nightmare Alleywhen the film has already run for seven minutes, he saves for the barbarian subject he finds in a cage on the muddy fairground: a geeka completely feral man, who has to entertain the audience by biting live chickens through the throat.

Significantly, Stanton just chose this human monster as the first interlocutor in Nightmare Alley. If there’s one predator sneaking through the film, it’s Stanton, who himself is the fate of the geek will get closer and closer. So it was in William Lindsay Gresham’s novel of the same name (1946) and in the first, excellent film adaptation from 1947, but nowhere does the circle of hell come full circle as beautifully as with Del Toro. The closing sentence (not featured in the book) alone, crushingly served by lead actor Bradley Cooper, makes the film worthwhile.

Filled it with rain and mud Nightmare Alleywhich Del Toro co-wrote with film journalist Kim Jordan, feels almost as wet as his previous film, The Shape of Water (2017). However, the films could not have been more different: this time not a bittersweet fantasy fairy tale, but a cynical film noir about the power of lies. A film that observes the demise of its characters as stylish as it is cold.

Bradley Cooper knows exactly how to maneuver in this terrain. His Stanton Carlisle is a tantalizingly mysterious hmm fatal who captivates everyone with his charms: not only fairground girl Molly (Rooney Mara), but also fortune teller Zeena (Toni Colette) and her booze-addicted partner Pete (David Strathairn). From this group, Stanton learns an ingenious code system with which you can fake clairvoyance.

While World War II rages in Europe, Stanton and Molly trade the carnival for the nightclub, where he tricks everyone as a mind reader and she plays the lovely assistant. The only one who doesn’t fall for it is psychologist Lilith Ritter, a wonderfully snake-like Cate Blanchett. See that icy expressive light on her face: Stanton has found his match.

When the two team up — her patient record is a treasure trove of his scams — the film’s sadistic endgame kicks in. Especially in that last act emerged Nightmare Alley pays homage to classic American film noir without becoming a superficial imitation. It’s to Del Toro’s credit that he saves the crooked frames and threatening shadows for last, when all the brakes are released and the blood is allowed to clatter liberally on the snow.