The Invisible Man (2020)
Cert: 15 / 124 mins / Dir. Leigh Whannell / Trailer
Written and directed by Leigh Whannell, The Invisible Man is a contemporary reimagining of the H.G. Wells novel; the tale of crazed inventor Adrian Griffin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who perfects a means of vanishing - this time told from the perspective of his domestically abused partner, Cecilia Kass (Elisabeth Moss). As befits its setting, the movie is more psych-thriller than outright Horror™, but Whannell has enough cinematic grounding to confidently play notes from both.
This new version of Griffin resides and works in an East-coast cliffside mansion, complete with built-in laboratory, very much a dark-side image of Tony Stark. The Invisible Man doesn't play on this element too much, but it would have been another interesting route to take. Like every portrayal of the character, stillness is truly how Griffin disguises himself, so the film is by necessity a bit quiet-quiet-BANG, but even that doesn't become as self-indulgent as other Blumhouse offerings.
CLASSIC Because although Universal managed to keep hold of the classic property for distribution purposes, this is very much A Blumhouse Joint™ and was arguably always going to be. Luckily for us, it's one of the bloody good ones. By the time the effects-shots kick in properly (after an admirable period of restraint), the film becomes more interesting on a technical level than a narrative one, but the sense of tension at reaching a clear-cut finish line remains suitably high.
Suspension-of-disbelief is the main hurdle to clear with this sort of thing, of course. Even within the confines of a darkened auditorium, certain levels of internal logic have to be maintained. And while there is ostensibly a supernatural element to the central plot device, the antagonists's motives and flaws are very, very human.
GLACIER Will you buy that this particular method of invisibility could work as well as it's shown? Not necessarily*1. But will you buy Elisabeth Moss' performance in believing that Cecilia believes? 100%. As much as Whannell deserves all the plaudits he'll receive for this telling of the story, full credit goes to Moss; an actress who can create a sense of palpable dread using only an empty room. Okay, Stefan Duscio's claustrophobic cinematography and a brooding minimalist score from Benjamin Wallfisch also have their part to play, but this film would be nothing without its lead performer.
There's the feeling that perhaps Cecilia begins to suspect the incredible truth far more quickly than someone doubting their sanity actually should, but Moss does the spiral of 'crazy' perfectly, and the supporting cast of Aldis Hodge, Harriet Dyer and Michael Dorman do well to minimise the sense of staginess (Storm Reid seems to be in this by virtue of her screaming-ability - an absolute waste of talent, but hey).
Considering the almighty mess Universal could well have made of this under their own steam (a studio where even the mighty Dracula's not safe), The Invisible Man is an incredibly solid retooling of a fable almost older than cinema itself...
The film will lose emotional punch on repeated viewings, but yes.
Everyone is on fine form, here.
That's possible.
There isn't.
Level 2: Elisabeth Moss was in Us with Lupita 'Kanata' Nyong'o.
*1 No spoilers in this review, but this particular aspect is intended as a metaphor. It's just a metaphor which isn't really expanded upon to its full potential. [ BACK ]
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Oh, Tom. When a Cruise-produced action vanity-project doesn't even work as a Cruise-produced action vanity project, you know the genre's really in trouble. The largely unnecessary sequel to 2012's live-action cartoonJack Reacher limps into the cinematic graveyard-slot without even bearing the exuberant ridiculousness of its predecessor…
The film opens with ex Military Police Major Jack living a transient, spartan existence. With little except for the clothes on his back, Reacher thumbs lifts from city to city, righting the wrongs of corporate and state/military corruption he finds along the way like a violent, narcissistic version of The Littlest Hobo. When one of his trusted contacts from his old unit is framed on charges of espionage and treason, Jack breaks cover to clear her name and expose the culprits. To complicate matters further, the case uncovers a 15yr old girl who may or may not be Reacher's surprise daughter. Either way, he has to protect her while taking care of business...
Oh, Tom.
Relying heavily on the audience already being familiar and/or in love with the character of Reacher, the screenplay wastes little time explaining the setup. Jack's great, everybody adores him except for the moustache-twirling villains, sub-villains and inept henchmen. He pouts, frowns and only breaks people's faces when provoked of course (and always in a 12A-friendly manner). Worse still, the inclusion of the daughter-archetype (who is obviously a flashing target for the film's villains) nudges the film towards being Taken-lite.
You'd imagine that a movie where the main supporting character is a 30-something female army major (who's had years of patronising misogyny hampering her career, and explicitly states so), would have a little self-awareness when it comes to gender politics. Well, Never Go Back's plot features a military contracting company by the name of Para-Source, which is pronounced approximately half the time throughout the film as 'Paris Whores'. I don't know, either. There's also the moment during Jack's arrest in the first act when he needs to get his female attorney out of the room so that he can engineer his escape. He does this by telling her to go and get him a sandwich. Literally. Incredible. But during the scene where Cobie Smudlers is wandering round a motel room in her bra for no real reason, Tom's got his shirt off for no real reason, too. Yay, equality.
I can see why Smulders signed up support here, but a movie like this is really something you should be doing on your way down the ladder, not up. Still, it's either that or carving out a secondary career in sub-standard horror movies, I suppose.
Above all that though, JR:NGB's biggest problem is how boring it all is. Any character with a name is narratively-invincible until the third act, and even then it's just a matter of ticking boxes until the credits roll. Grindingly pedestrian, even Cruise looks like he doesn't want to be there; and this is his messianic fantasy, remember.
After a stoically emotional coda, we leave Jack meandering his way down the highway, thumb outstretched, on his way to another adventure.
Maybe tomorrow, he'll want to settle down.
Until tomorrow, he'll just keep punching bad guys in the mush…
Liam Neeson films.
But where the starring cast are far prettier.
I think there could be one buried in the rooftop fight-sequence, but let's side with nope.
Level 2: Cruise starred in 1985's Legend of course, alongside Tim 'Voice of Palpatine in the later episodes of The Clone Wars' Curry.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
For the assembled faithful in Screen 5 on Friday, F. Gary Gray's regaling of the turbulent history of L.A. rap-group N.W.A. is a journey which begins before the BBFC card even makes an appearance, in the form of the trailer for the imminent (not to mention inexplicable) Ride Along 2. Because no matter what highs and lows will be explored among the 147 minutes of Straight Outta Compton, the audience can rest easy knowing the real tragic ending involves one of modern hip-hop's godfathers standing in faux-umbrage next to a shrieking Kevin Hart…
Covering the period of 1986 to 1996 Gray certainly delivers, and superficially, his film looks and sounds utterly magnificent. Okay, the first act is a little like a series of GTA cut-scenes, and it becomes apparent at this early stage that the story is told by deftly jumping between pivotal points in the development of N.W.A. and its ancillary projects. Feeling like a sort of visual Greatest Hits package, those unfamiliar with the broad history of the group should get plenty out of the film, and casual fans of the genre will be able to feel their way through the familiarity. The longtime, hardcore fan-base however, may find the telling a little contrived since so many of the incidents rely on the point-of-view of the narrator, and much of what happens here is already quasi-legendary.
The central cast are marvellous, with O'Shea Jackson Jr being a particular standout as Ice Cube. Jason Mitchell's performance as Eazy-E is similarly great when it's allowed time to breathe properly (see above). And helming the supporting cast is Paul Giamatti in his lengthy role as Jerry Heller, in a firm step towards his goal of securing the Guinness World Record for 'the most cinematic appearances as a transparently manipulative music manager within a year'.
As competently as the film replays the buildup of the Gangsta-scene, it's not really until the timeline reaches the L.A. riots of 1992 that it really feels like it has something more to say. Although by that point, it's so locked into its just-the-facts-ma'am methodology of storytelling that the weight of those events almost seems skipped over. At two and a half hours, it's by no means a short film, but I'd have happily had another sixty minutes or so if it meant getting a more personal perspective. As it stands, the film's not really doing anything new in itself, but what it does achieve is done so well that it doesn't really matter.
Straight Outta Compton is an engaging, if slightly perfunctory music biopic. Although with a setting and soundtrack as awesome as this, most of its flaws*1 are entirely forgivable…
If the music's your thing, yes.
But that's going to be a deal-breaker.
Obviously.
Providing the extras are up-to-scratch, this will be a buy-er.
The performances and performers themselves are magnificent, yes.
It probably does, although I don't think it achieves everything I wanted it to.
Which isn't what director F. Gary Gray had in mind, admittedly.
Nope.
Not that I heard, but the film does open with a pseudo boot-shot.
Dr. Dre is portrayed by Corey Hawkins who made an appearance in Iron Man 3, a film which starred Jon 'Pre Vizsla' Favreau.
*1 Little things like the scene where Eazy-E is diagnosed with AIDS, and is told that his pregnant girlfriend will also have to be tested. Do we learn how he (most likely) contracted HIV? No, we don't. Do we find out if his partner and unborn child were carrying it? No, we don't. Y'know, it's only like his film, after all.
Additionally, there are probably more than a few paragraphs to be written on the depiction and treatment of the (very few) women in the film, but the factual basis of the story means that you can't really blame the film itself, even though you don't have to be happy with it either.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Written and directed by Leigh Whannell, The Invisible Man is a contemporary reimagining of the H.G. Wells novel; the tale of crazed inventor Adrian Griffin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who perfects a means of vanishing - this time told from the perspective of his domestically abused partner, Cecilia Kass (Elisabeth Moss). As befits its setting, the movie is more psych-thriller than outright Horror™, but Whannell has enough cinematic grounding to confidently play notes from both.
