Universal's Dark Universe was one of the most disappointing IP launches in recent memory, floundering right out of the gate with the unanimously shat-on disaster that was The Mummy. In many ways, it was a bold decision to continue with the classic monster reboots, although reframing them as self-contained stories was undoubtedly a clever move. Helmed by Upgrade's Leigh Whannell, The Invisible Man has the unenviable task of following up the one of the Cruiser's darkest hours, and that's something that it absolutely achieves. Like many Blumhouse productions, this is a film that takes studio horror and shows us what it can be, refusing to rely on lazy jumpscares and generic setups to make an easy profit. This is one of the strongest high profile horrors in years, which isn't bad when you factor in its $7 million dollar budget. Of course it helps that, like every good horror, it's actually about something, this time using the idea of the invisible man to tell the story of a toxic relationship, with Elisabeth Moss' Cecelia desperately trying to fend off her apparently dead, suddenly invisible abusive boyfriend, tech mogul Adrien Griffin
This turns out to be a great move on Whannell's part, as he mines horror from gaslighting, emotional torment and the frustrations of not being believed, and the result is something that's genuinely scary. It also takes cues from the psychological thriller, building an atmosphere of unsettling uncertainty and knowing when to puncture it with a well placed shock. Surprise is a key motif in this film, and part of its freshness comes in its unpredictability; although plot points are well telegraphed, the film excels at presenting them in a way that not only feels sudden, but also possesses an element of genuine danger. The threat always feels real in The Invisible Man, and that's down to the film's fusion of the recognisable and the alien: the grim feeling of knowing what's coming but never quite being able to stop it, or even predict how it plays out. Points to Whannell for refusing to ever show the audience the central relationship in a positive light as well. Not once is there a montage of fond memories, or even an implication that it was ever anything but toxic, and it's Whannell's refusal to rely on that kind of cheap storytelling ploy that lets him imbue the horror with so much weight.
There are genuinely shocking moments in this film (a central restaurant setpiece will surely gain notoriety), but it's the sustained sense of tension that makes each of them resonate, something only amplified by the less-is-more sensibilities that Whannell demonstrated in Upgrade. Of course, none of this means anything without an equally strong central performance, and Elisabeth Moss absolutely delivers on that front. She's the best she's ever been here, bringing so much intensity and vulnerability without ever defining Cecelia as just a victim. There is so much empathy in this performance, but it's also so visceral, taking the bone-deep horror at the centre of the story and drawing it to the surface, with a physicality that convinces even when she's acting against the air. She is the crucial ingredient in what makes this film work, the anchor that convinces even when the high-concept threatens to slide towards silliness. Her commanding presence also negates the film's only real issue, which is the breakneck pace the plot progresses at, often feeling like Whannell is forcing the plot to a conclusion. It's never a major issue, but it does feel like everything is compressed pure information, despite its considerably roomy two hour runtime, and the film feels like it's moving at a sprinter's pace for most of its run. Again, it's only a slight distraction, but the sheer concentration of information can get slightly exhausting, even if it is only noticeable when the thrills slow down
Thankfully, that's a seldom occurrence in The Invisible Man, a film that takes every opportunity to deliver a surprise and ensures that each one resonates. It's a deft reinvention of the Universal Monster film after the disappointment of The Mummy, and is proof positive that these stories can lend themselves to modernisation in the right hands. The horror feels thrillingly prescient, reframing the terror of an invisible threat in a way that is utterly unpredictable but all too familiar. Elisabeth Moss is every inch the perfect horror hero, delivering arguably her best performance ever, and it's her fearless embodiment of this character that gives this film such a sting. She makes this her own, and she easily joins the pantheon of the ace female horror leads we've seen in the last few years. It's slick, it's thrilling, it's got some really sharp ideas that linger after the credits roll, and it's tonally tight. I'll admit that I wasn't expecting much of The Invisible Man, but I'm happy to say that I was very much surprised
★ ★ ★ ★
No comments:
Post a Comment