Whether he’s the class joker, smart-ass or simply the naughtiest boy in school, the one thing Nicolas Winding Refn doesn’t want to be is ignored. Loved Drive’s sleek, retro L.A. neo-noir? Hated Only God Forgives’ gruesome Bangkok underworld? Or vice versa? Danish cinema’s second-toughest agitator in the infants (Antichrist and Nymphomaniac’s Lars Von Trier is still head boy) genuinely doesn’t care, so long as he provokes a reaction; the more visceral the better. So why, then, when he unveils his big lesbian necrophilia masturbation scene in The Neon Demon, are some of us liable to shrug or, even, wearily yawn?