The Invisible Man

The first half was on track for a five-star review. Whannell fires off one idea after another; the last time I enjoyed contemporary horror with a similarly fresh and innovative take was Wan’s first instalment of the Conjuring franchise. Wan and Whannell have quite a few things in common – both are undoubtedly clever creators who made do with modest means in their early days, relying on talent and inventiveness without any big budget to speak of. The excellent Upgrade simply wasn’t a lucky accident. It is clear to me now – and I would in fact bet my Blu-ray collection on it – that one big studio or another will make a move also on Whannell, who may look forward to a promising directing career (Scott Derrickson, another great talent, came from similar beginnings). Sadly, the second half of The Invisible Man somewhat turns into a B-movie spectacle, and I didn’t have as much fun. But the slightly cynical ending with a nice zinger was pleasant enough. Unlike Elizabeth Moss. She has no charisma, lacks feminine fragility…and what’s worse, she can’t act :o). (22/03/2020)

The Invisible Man captures your attention thanks to the great atmosphere and, of course, Elisabeth Moss' evocative performance as Cecilia. Unlike most horror films (or thrillers), the film is not based directly on the fear of what we will see, but of what we will not actually see – to put it in a rather trite way – which it manages to do in a very artful way. Together with the protagonist, we look into empty doors or corridors and wait to see who or what will appear. Elisabeth Moss, thanks to her unmistakable looks, was a great choice for the role of a woman who is suddenly not at all sure of what is happening around her and doesn't know if she is slowly losing her mind. Towards the end, I felt that the plot started to lose its breath a bit, but I was more than satisfied with the overall denouement. Last but not least, I have to praise the unmistakable and captivating music, which perfectly completed the dense atmosphere of the film. (05/03/2020)

I really don't know who came up with the rule - whenever Elisabeth Moss appears in a movie or series, her character has to be referred to as beautiful at least once. I can have a good laugh about it and life goes on, but then I'm confronted with the close-ups of her face, and I can already count on waking up from sleep screaming, drenched in cold sweat. These shots are also the only explanation why horror is listed as one of the genres. The film itself wasn't exactly amazing, but it wasn't terrible either. If I had been able to root for the protagonist, I might have even enjoyed it more. (18/08/2020)

The much poked-at feminist subtext is effective, of course, but I enjoyed more the smartly transtextual format that hides the invisible male threat. Another great thing is the notional absence of a prologue and the immediate connection to the perspective of a troubled woman who desperately wants to get free from the shackles of her husband – I think the opening sequence is the best part of the whole film. The enemy is profiled gradually, mainly through the dialogues of other characters, the presentation of his lavish mansion and the maturely articulated MeToo campaign, while we are forced to keep our fingers crossed for the heroine from the get go; and in the second half Whannel can stop generating tension mainly through individual scenes (with more references to well-known horror movies than it may appear at first glance and with the lack of a visible enemy) and move on to motifs of surprise and to pique the curiosity through the story as a whole (how did he set it all up and get others to believe Cecilia?). Thanks to the transtextual genre distinctiveness, the film is much more sophisticated than just “abused woman escaping her rich husband” and lets the viewer pose interpretive challenges, but, on the other hand, most questions are answered too soon, or can be easily figured out, and the ending is like mandatory satisfaction rather than a bold resolution to the various genre and motivational concepts. But I have to admit that everything holds very well together and, with the exception of a couple of scenes with questionable effect after a second viewing, this is a superbly directed intersection between classic horror from Universal and a modern genre play with the viewer, the kind of which we don’t see very often. The scene with the paint in the attic and its climax in particular scared me almost as much as the sequence in the ventilation duct of the first Alien. 80% (14/03/2020)

At the cinema after three and a half months (!), during which I watched old quarantine B-movies on a TV screen outside my home, and I immediately got such a great film! This is a very respectable way to catch up on the backlog from the beginning of the year, having already been impressed by Ritchie’s The Gentlemen. Whannell’s The Invisible Man starts off on the principles of ghostly horror, then shifts into a sophisticated paranoid cat-and-mouse game, which culminates in a murder thriller with polished action visuals that will leave you breathless. Each of the film’s three phases demonstrates Whannell’s knowledge of genre rules and the inventiveness of his screenwriting and directing. This isn’t the work of a mere craftsman, as the film contains suspense built brilliantly through only the viewer’s lack of awareness and intense dark music, a shocking twist that will make you hold your breath like nothing (!) you have seen in a long time, creative and intelligent playing with genre clichés, well-thought-out sets and delicate camera acrobatics. And he packs all of this into an admirably bold runtime in order to bring us maximum satisfaction. (08/06/2020)