The Bedrooms of 'Nowhere'
By Maria Staack
For filmmaker Gregg Araki, the bedroom is where the magic happens in more than one way. His unofficially named “Teen Apocalypse Trilogy” follows a number of young adults through their varied journeys of friendship, sexuality, and violence. As the trilogy progresses, so does the budget and, therefore, the set design, culminating in the surreal, perhaps campy, designs of Nowhere (1997). As with many narratives following young adults—think Ladybird (2017), Clueless (1995), etc—the bedrooms of Araki’s films take on a large significance. More than just a place to sleep or sleep with people, the bedroom essentially serves as an extension of one’s self at any age. The self holds special relevance for teenagers, for whom identity is just beginning to take shape, making the bedroom a crucial setting during adolescence. Adolescent self identity and sexuality represent two of the most prominent themes in the “Teenage Apocalypse Trilogy,” so of course the eccentric design of the bedrooms in Nowhere make perfect sense. Any great filmmaker pays attention to how the set design conveys aspects of the story, but Nowhere sets itself apart with the bold totality of the designs by set designer Patti Podesta.
The first room we see belongs to Dark, arguably the central character of this story. After an argument with his mother in the bathroom, the scene cuts to Dark in his bedroom, which contrasts completely from the sparkling white bathroom. A mess of crates, VHS tapes, vinyl records, clothes, books, and a TV lay across the floor and a mattress with no bed frame. These aspects fit the model of many teenage bedrooms, but Dark’s room does not appear normal by any stretch of the imagination. The centerpiece of this set comes in the form of a gigantic self portrait mural on the wall. Painted in neutral tones of blacks, grays, and blues, the painting portrays Dark with soulless, black eyes holding two revolvers to his temple. Based on Dark’s trajectory as a submissive and fearful character, I find this mural one of the most intriguing aspects of this film. The intensity of the painted version of his character feels so scary. I find it hard to believe that anyone would sleep in a room so frightening, let alone Dark. I wonder if perhaps this room represents some inner desire of his, which makes it all the more frightening.
Of the bedrooms we enter in Nowhere, Egg’s contrasts the most from her journey in the film, providing a juxtaposition which strengthens Araki’s signature morbidity. A floral printed wallpaper adorns the walls, lined with planted flowers at the base; large floral motifs frame the window. A bookshelf in the corner of the room appears well organized. This room is a dream for anyone who has ever wanted to be a princess. At one point, Egg climbs through her window and makes her way to the bed, reeling after a famous actor has sexually assaulted her. The floral, romantic bed frame doesn’t come close to matching the painful imprint of her bloodied face and messy hair. With the encouragement of a televangelist, Egg commits suicide. Her organized and dreamy floral bedroom makes the scene more difficult to watch, as this room plays on Egg’s innocence and femininity. She is a nice girl who does not deserve the fate she meets.
Bart, another character in this trilogy, unfortunately meets the same fate as Egg, but his room appears more in line with both his personality and subsequent death. Bart has struggled with a heroin addiction and turns to the same televangelist as Egg. As he paces, sulking, around his room, we get a view of a black and white room, tinted with a bluish hue from the glow of a TV. Somewhat incoherent words sprawl across the entire room, including the wall, the comforter on the bed, the back of the TV, a table, a lamp, and a chair. Although full thoughts appear illegible in the text, phrases like “your shit means nothing to me” and “what can I do if she dies,” convey a darkness which hangs over Bart’s head. It would be too easy to project the words onto these surfaces, instead the words are physically printed onto each object, emphasizing the care with which Podesta designed the set. Small details such as the letter “B” on either prong of the TV antenna exemplify how much attention to detail was put into this set design. Compared to Egg’s room, the emptiness of Bart’s space may come as a shock. Though he has several pieces of furniture, the room seems as though every sound would echo unpleasantly across the empty, studio-like space. The mattress on the floor adds to its unfinished, barren quality. As I see it, the space represents the inner workings of Bart’s mind—many troublesome thoughts knocking around a harsh environment. Bart’s room serves as an essential device to reveal his character and what he struggles with in life.
Mel’s room, as her character, departs wholly from Egg and Bart’s. We only see the space briefly, as she speaks with Dark, her partner, on the phone. Colorful dots, reminiscent of the game Twister, spread across the room in a similar manner to the text in Bart’s room. The dots embed themselves into the wall, a dresser, and even Mel’s clothing. The bright, colorful aesthetic of Mel’s room matches her fun and free-spirited personality. Throughout the run of the film, Mel takes no interest in the serious problems of others, content in having fun with her friends and lovers. The game-like wall design of her living space mirrors her personality with spot-on accuracy. Rather than having the decor of a normal teenage bedroom, the room takes on a total campiness that works with the fantastical elements of the film.
Each bedroom in Nowhere conveys vital aspects of storytelling for the characters. The fullness of the designs contains so much excitement compared to many films. Araki and Podesta take creative liberties which allow the visuals to take on a significance that potentially overshadows the narrative aspects of the film. The outrageous, campy sets compliment the fantastical and intense nature of the film. I would love to see more risks with such extreme forms of design taken in mainstream film, or more recognition for designs of the sort. If I had any of these rooms, I would be too busy admiring the design to be able to sleep. ◆