The Invisible Man

This post-MeToo reinterpretation of H.G. Wells's The Invisible Man transforms the subtext of numerous slasher films and paranoid thrillers (toxic masculinity is evil) into the main theme and, unlike the original story, factors in primarily the viewpoint of the victim rather than that of the attacker. The screenplay was written by a man (director Leigh Whannell), though on the basis of consultation with specialists and victims of stalkers and emotional manipulators. In order to take the feminine perspective into consideration as sensitively as possible, Elisabeth Moss was invited to refine the script. The most terrifying part of the film is its first half, which gives us a hint of the hell experienced by the partner of a person with personality disorder even after the (seeming) end of the relationship and patiently reveals the aggressor’s methods. From the ways that Cecilia’s ex-partner psychologically torments her, destroys her career prospects and isolates her from her family and friends in order to intensify her helplessness, the film is chilling in that it shows how easily such methods can be applied in a world where invisibility has yet to be invented. (Due to his ability to assign blame to the victim, the perpetrator of this form of violence often seems to be absent and invisible, someone who does not actually exist). Compared to other, similar films that keep us in a state of uncertainty until the end as to whether the main character is in fact losing touch with reality (in other words, we have the same doubt that a manipulator tries to induce in the victim through gaslighting), here we know from the beginning that Cecilia is in the right and her cognitive abilities are unimpaired, which together with Moss’s performance and the boldly subjective narration strengthens our affinity for her and the frustration arising from the fact that no one believes her, while someone else takes control of her life step by step with a chillingly premeditated plan. Though the second half of the film is closer in nature to a standard splatter film and the psychological persuasiveness more conspicuously gives way to genre conventions, it is still first and foremost about what the protagonist experiences. Thanks to the viewer’s interest in the main character, the film’s climax works superbly. It is satisfying to see who takes the lead in it and how, as well as in how simply and effectively it is directed (which is true of the whole film; instead of visual effects and scares, extremely inventive use is made of the most basic stylistic elements employed by horror filmmakers: silence and empty spaces, slow panoramic shots, well-timed point-of-view shots). It is a horror film that, in revealing some of the sources of today’s social anxieties, is equally as important as Get Out was a few years ago (as we live in a society that is more trusting of those who are good at pretending than it is of the victims of such pretending). 80% (06/03/2020)

I’m struggling a bit with a certain formal sterility, but I guess that kind of goes with the territory of hi-tech thrillers, and more than once I was snapped out of it by the fact that Elisabeth Moss often looks like Jeffrey Tambor wearing a wig. Still, I'm giving it full marks because I haven't seen such perfect drama in a genre film in a long time, allowing the film to graduate from intimate drama/horror to near-sci-fi actioner (a one-shot in which an invisible man beats up about ten people FTW) without retreating from the overarching theme of the seemingly irrational trauma of a victim of psychological abuse. Nor should Whannell's individual visual ideas be overlooked, such as the shot during the opening titles of a wave crashing from the ocean's perspective just before the waves break on the rocks. Or those sadistic camera glances into the void, depicting the protagonist's sense of the antagonist's omnipresence. It's really very clever. As an added bonus, I'd like to announce that I really wish more of the lead heroine roles were cast with these atypical, interesting, and adult types of actresses like Moss. Her character development works here in large part because she can believably play all the different roles she has here, and when she flips into the role of the hunter, that’s a satisfaction I sorely crave. Let the kids who bounce to movies from PornHub maybe shit themselves. (04/06/2020)

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)

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)

The brilliantly paranoid direction and cinematography do to the viewer in The Invisible Man what, say, Spielberg's Jaws does to the viewer – the unsettling static shots simply suggest to you that there's someone standing there somewhere who can't be seen. Or are they there? Or there? Really terrific work and, along with the perfectly believable Elizabeth Moss, it is the main triumph of this unassuming but all the more impressive and surprising horror film, which of course deals with serious themes of domestic violence and restraint as much as it does with jump scares. If it had been a little shorter and had deleted say, the entire part in the attic, I'd have absolutely nothing to find fault with. (05/03/2020)