Review: The Invisible Man (2020)

Directed by: Leigh Whannell
Written by: Leigh Whannell
Starring: Elisabeth Moss, Harriet Dyer, Aldis Hodge
IMDb Link

From the moment the film allows the ocean's waves to crash against empty space, thundering in to the cinema's space and revealing the film's invisible title, The Invisible Man becomes a uniquely intense experience, isolating us within the sights and sounds that our lead experiences, and deftly foreshadowing one of the film's most intense moments in the process.

The film follows Cecilia (Moss), who manages to escape her abusive and controlling ex-boyfriend Adrian (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), and as she struggles to re-adjust for fear of him finding her, she learns that he has committed suicide, and left his fortune to her, under the condition that she commit no crimes and be found to be mentally stable. Of course, once she signs for the fortune, a series of events that grow in magnitude and tragedy happen to and around her, and in case the film's title wasn't enough of a giveaway, there's more going on here than can be seen.

The obvious nature of Adrian's looming threat is one of the film's most-repeated strength: the film is constantly setting up ideas ages in advance of actually executing on them, broadcasting its intentions to the audience, knowing that they, like Cecilia, will be helpless to stop anything from happening. Even the most innocuous transgression, before Cecilia even receives the news of Adrian's death, isn't without purpose, as Cecilia's sister Emily (Dyer) betraying her trust to come visit her at the house of Emily's ex-husband James (Hodge) is the key to Cecilia's location being revealed in the first place. It's the sort of thing that reinforces the audience's place inside Cecilia's perspective, and allows us to believe and understand her, even at her worst, despite Adrian's escalating actions that see her drawn up as a danger to herself and others.

Of course, that reinforcement requires a strong foundation to work, and thankfully Moss as Cecilia offers one of her best performances, capturing every mood and swing with a heartbreaking reality as she becomes more and more isolated by the man who wants to control her life above all else. There's a perfect little juxtaposition between the slow transition from the depressive to the elated, to the paranoid and manic, and the veneer of understanding we are afforded from watching it all unfold from her perspective, and Moss walks that razor-thin edge between lucid desperation and the crazed lunatic Adrian paints her as perfectly, both strengthening our belief in her and the callous cleverness of his actions.

All of this is presented with a backdrop that shows Whannell's best directing to date (although I still say 2018's UPGRADE is his best work in terms of writing). Shots are cleverly framed to convey a need for a character within the empty space on-screen, clicks and whirs occasionally underscore the corners of the soundscape, and there's never a point where a scare is rushed for the sake of an easy scare, instead carefully layering on pieces of information, building tension so appropriately painful that we're almost begging for the scare to happen so we can be released from it, and that release happening, at the best of times, with screeches that are diagetic. Whannell also hasn't lost his comedic streak, thankfully, the moments of violence and gore actually coming as a welcome counter to the film's otherwise meticulous approach to horror; even what is arguably the film's darkest moment isn't without a tinge of comedic surprise, as a laugh is stifled before the true horror of the situation is realised. It's really excellent filmmaking all-round.

The Short Version: Whannell and Moss are at their best here, creating an experience that is often that much more enthralling for how agonisingly restrained it is; there's an understanding of how tension builds that's rare among recent horror films, both in how it puts us in the main character's state of mind and how it waits for the right moment, and it allows The Invisible Man to create its biggest scares out of empty space and slow camera movements.

Rating: 8/10

Review - Birds of Prey (2020)

Directed by: Cathy Yan
Written by: Christina Hodson
Starring: Margot Robbie, Rosie Perez, Ewan McGregor
IMDb Link

The trajectory of the DCEU has been fascinating to watch. After the significant failure (both critically and financially, at least relative to their competition) of the Snyder films, pieces so grimdark that they were ashamed of their comic book origins, it's neat to see the ways in which Warner Bros. has pushed so hard in every other direction to find a new identity, from the epic scale of Aquaman to a more grounded and human approach with Shazam! (that actually told a story that got to the heart of what it means to be a hero), to the truly insane and cartoonish style of Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) that finally embraces the comic book background of its story.

In an effort to get over her break-up with the Joker, Harley Quinn (Robbie) blows up the old Ace Chemicals plant where both of their villain origin stories began. Such a public declaration draws the attention of Roman Sionis (McGregor, playing things as delightfully and excessively camp as possible) - also known as Black Mask, who wants her dead, and now no longer fears facing the wrath of the Joker. In order to get out from under his threat, Quinn becomes involved in the hunt for a diamond stolen by Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco, in her first film role), a young pickpocket who takes a shine to Quinn. The titular Birds of Prey are introduced over the course of the film: Renee Montoya (Perez, played with a slightly obnoxious knowing wink), a hard-boiled detective building a case against Sionis; Dinah Lance (Jurnee Smollet-Bell, who does well with what she's given), also known as Black Canary, a singer/driver for Sionis who cares for Cain; and Helena Bartinelli (Mary Elizabeth Winstead, the best of the bunch after Robbie), also known as Huntress, a mal-adjusted assassin with a Vendetta against some of Sionis' people.

It's a bit of a jumble to assemble the ensemble, as none of the girls have enough screentime to really flesh themselves out, but the constant background noise of Robbie's high-energy performance combined with the slick and colourful action setpieces that become increasingly cartoonish as the movie goes on are amusing enough to keep things from getting stale, even as my mind occasionally slipped thoughts of comparison to the current Harley Quinn animated series (which handles Quinn's growth as a character way more effectively but doesn't have quite the same speed and style in its fight scenes). The action really is the highlight in this movie, toeing a fine line between silly and cool; bone-crunching, body bursting fights that are covered in glitter, and as it escalates to the inevitable conclusion that has all the girls fighting together, flitting between literal slapstick, little moments of camaraderie ("do you need a hair tie?"), and some good, old-fashioned R-rated violence, the film is enough of what it wants to be in order to work, despite a few of the awkward steps it takes to get there.

The Short Version: Birds of Prey is a lot like Harley herself: an energetic mess that's easy to like.

Rating: 6.5/10