So far, writer/director Joe Begos’ films have worn their retro influences on their sleeve while weaving in Begos’ high energy style drenched in gore. His debut, Almost Human, brought Xtro levels of goo-filled insanity to an alien invasion turned slaughter-fest right at home with the straight-to-video fare of the ‘80s. The Mind’s Eye, his sophomore effort, invoked a nostalgia for Scanners’ telekinetic horror while once again demonstrating a knack for anarchic levels of splatter. With his latest, Bliss feels like a companion piece to Near Dark by way of Abel Ferrara’s The Driller Killer, in terms of maturity and extreme carnality that’s simultaneously pastiche yet wholly Begos.

Bliss stars Dora Madison as Dezzy, a talented Los Angeles based artist with a reputation for her dark artwork. Struggling for months to move past a serious creative block, Dezzy’s facing financial trouble and serious pressure from the art gallery to which her latest erstwhile masterpiece has been promised. When her agent drops her, Dezzy finds herself seeking solace from old friends and vices she once left behind in the seedy underbelly of the city. After a hallucinogenic drug binge on Bliss, Dezzy’s night of debauchery sends her on a downward spiral fueled by Bliss and an unquenchable hunger for blood.

Our intro to both this world and lead character Dezzy is a jarring one. “Fuck” is uttered just about every other word to ensure you know how tough as nails chain-smoking Dezzy can be, and how desperate. Her relationship with her boyfriend Clive (Jeremy Gardner) seems volatile, but she’s downright loving in the way she treats him compared to anyone else in her path – her landlord, her agent, etc. Her icy demeanor thaws completely, though, once she reconnects with her former drug dealer Hadrian, played by frequent Begos collaborator Graham Skipper (sporting epic mutton chops here). It marks a turning point, not just for her character, but in terms of finding a foothold for the audience to grab hold of while being whisked along Dezzy’s increasingly precarious journey.

Under the hazy glow of neon, Bliss becomes a collision course of gutter trash and artistic creativity. Begos has two effective weapons in his filmmaking arsenal that can be counted on in his work, which definitely applies here; his vision for practical effect driven gore and Josh Ethier’s talent for film editing. Dezzy’s vampiric transformation begins as a drug-addled psychotronic miasma that builds into one blood-soaked third act, giving ample room for both the viscera and editing to soar. Emphasis on viscera.

You’d be hard pressed to come up with a bloodier vampire film, and the deaths are brutal.

Madison’s performance is also a major strength. This is a one-character narrative; we’re with Dezzy from beginning to end while supporting characters come and go, so much of Bliss hinges on its lead’s portrayal. Luckily, Madison is the strongest performer yet in Begos’ roster of actors, and is able to carry the weight of the film on her shoulders. Though her abrasive entrance gives pause, with no assist by the oft cringy dialogue, Madison imbues Dezzy with the complexity of a struggling artist so thoroughly consumed by her work that everything else is kept at arm’s reach. There’s a thematic weight in that struggle, and the questions in poses, that show a maturity and growth in Begos as a filmmaker, as well.

Writer/director Joe Begos has left behind the New England setting of his previous films in favor of a gritty urban cityscape with its unsavory underside put front and center. The gleeful approach to violence and gore are still there in spades, as are the overt cinematic influences that shaped this story. But now Begos is asking thought-provoking questions through his art, in his no-holds-barred gratuitous way, that indicates a director growing much more comfortable and confident.

Bliss was first reviewed out of the 2019 Tribeca Film Festival.