Criticisms of the scene itself aside for a moment, I do think the Loumand scene communicates visually something very powerful about Armand.
Thereās this sentiment about him Iāve been trying to express for a long time and there just havenāt been the words to encapsulate it but I think this scene does it.
I think this is what is like in Armandās head. He says he feels like a room without wall, an infinite nothing but I think this scene and what he does to Louis is him on a regular basis. If you cut open his skull and immersed yourself inside, this is what it would be like. I think heās endured so much unfathomable horror that has compounded over the years that heās left as this: a severed head trapped in a sterile room where instead of air in the empty space, there is pure terror. There is such a hostility about his very existence, such a raw cruelty that he cannot hide because it is all he has ever known. He has been chopped up into pieces and had parts removed so many times over the years that he is now only a head, and heās trapped in there, nerves and severed flesh and bone exposed to the drying air. You feel the tension of that room just from looking at it and thatās what I think itās like to be him. You try to blend in, to be the charismatic coven master, to be the perfect partner, but itās so much effort because you are constantly trying to fight your way out of this room. But the doors are locked, the windows shuttered and you cannot move no matter how hard you try.
And everyone knows. Everyone knows what you are. You told them, didnāt you? You showed them. Thatās why youāre still in the room. Thatās why no one has come to save you, even though they all know youāre in there. You havenāt given them a reason to want to.
I cannot imagine what itās like to always feel this way. To never have your heart rate really slow, to never be able to let your guard down, to always be planning an escape even as you sink your slaws ever deeper into your latest companion. Heās a parasite who is also a flight risk. Itās no wonder he can never fully be trusted. Heās a living paradox and he knows it.
He tries to be Victor Frankenstein, to take back control, to inflict the mutilation on others so maybe they finally see him as a whole person, but heās the creatureās head, no longer attached but still animated.
And he sees the pile of cadaver parts in the corner of his eye. He knows they came from all the people he used to be. He knows how many doctors have come in and out of this room and removed the pieces they wanted, before leaving and locking the door again. The remains of the corpses are always there, just out of view. He canāt turn his head enough to really see, but he knows theyāre there.
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