by Josh Sewell
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| Courtesy of Universal |
Ever since I was a kid, there are two tropes that trigger profound anxiety in me if they pop up in a movie or television show I’m watching. One is an innocent character being framed for murder or an equally terrible crime. The other is a character who knows an awful truth but can’t get anyone to believe them. In that respect, The Invisible Man, a modern remake of the horror classic from writer-director Leigh Whannell, is a perfect combination of my worst cinematic nightmares.
In this version, Cecilia Kass (Elisabeth Moss) is a woman trapped in a violent, controlling relationship with a wealthy, brilliant scientist (Oliver Jackson-Cohen). She somehow manages to escape and disappears into hiding, with help from her sister (Harriet Dyer), her friend (Aldis Hodge), and his teenage daughter (Storm Reid). Two weeks later, Cecilia gets word that her abusive ex has committed suicide and left her part of his fortune, but she has her doubts. As horrible events pile up and people begin to doubt her sanity, Cecilia desperately tries to prove she’s telling the truth.
The Invisible Man is a finely crafted psychological thriller with an astonishing performance from Moss, as well as staggeringly great cinematography from Stefan Duscio. It’s smart, compelling and manages to comment on troubling issues like domestic violence, gaslighting, trauma and toxic masculinity while not pulling viewers out of the film’s story. That being said, I never want to see it again. While it’s certainly a memorable experience, it’s one I have no interest in repeating because it does its job so well.
From the opening scene, Whannell puts viewers in Cecilia’s headspace – instilling every frame with quiet, creeping tension and unceasing paranoia. She knows something is horribly wrong and so does the audience, but for almost two hours there’s a feeling of intense helplessness and dread because Cecilia can’t convince those closest to her that she’s not going insane.
That ties into something else I appreciated about the film – it doesn’t play coy with the question of “is this really happening or is it all in her head?” The story lets viewers know very early on that the title is both literal (there really is an invisible man) as well as metaphorical (Cecilia is the narrative focus here, not the famous monster).
Moss’ work truly shines in both of those areas. While Hodge and Reid are strong in supporting roles, providing much-needed warmth as well as heartbreak when the narrative kicks into gear, the movie is a one-woman-show for long stretches of its running time. Furthermore, Cecilia is interacting with a character who she and the audience knows is there, but Moss was likely talking to nothing but air (director and crew members notwithstanding) when filming. It’s a powerfully brave performance.
The Invisible Man does have a couple of weak spots, however. Following a terrifying opening sequence that establishes the film’s stakes, the plot gets bogged down with clunky exposition for a while. There’s also the issue of Cecilia’s sister, an incredibly annoying character who destroys narrative momentum any time she’s on screen (aside from one gigantic exception). I’m not sure if it’s the way the character is written or if it’s a stilted performance by Dyer, but she’s by far the movie’s biggest problem.
Then there’s the fact that the marketing materials – including a highly effective trailer – are selling a movie that doesn’t exist. This isn’t a fun genre movie like Upgrade, Whannell’s previous effort; it’s a brutally punishing experience that puts audiences through the ringer for two hours. Granted, it’s not the kind of torture porn the filmmaker launched his career with (he co-created the Saw franchise), but it’s a tough watch nonetheless. I’m curious to see how audiences respond. I’m almost certain it’ll have a strong opening weekend, but word of mouth will determine the movie’s staying power. I could see it going either way.
Still, I think going the ultra-cheap Blumhouse route (like the production company’s previous films, including Get Out and Happy Death Day, the budget for The Invisible Man was under $10 million) is a much better way to tackle remakes of Universal’s classic monster movies than the studio’s previous plan. Remember the ridiculous, Marvel-style Dark Universe idea that crashed and burned the moment Tom Cruise’s The Mummy bombed at the box office? Yikes.
Finally, an advisory of sorts: I can’t imagine what watching this movie will be like for someone who has survived – or, God forbid, is still in – a physically and/or psychologically abusive relationship, or is close to someone who has. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, it might be smart to do some research and seek out a few spoilers before walking in blind. Like I said, it’s a good movie, but it’s an endurance test.
The Invisible Man is rated R for some strong bloody violence, and language.
Grade: B
In this version, Cecilia Kass (Elisabeth Moss) is a woman trapped in a violent, controlling relationship with a wealthy, brilliant scientist (Oliver Jackson-Cohen). She somehow manages to escape and disappears into hiding, with help from her sister (Harriet Dyer), her friend (Aldis Hodge), and his teenage daughter (Storm Reid). Two weeks later, Cecilia gets word that her abusive ex has committed suicide and left her part of his fortune, but she has her doubts. As horrible events pile up and people begin to doubt her sanity, Cecilia desperately tries to prove she’s telling the truth.
The Invisible Man is a finely crafted psychological thriller with an astonishing performance from Moss, as well as staggeringly great cinematography from Stefan Duscio. It’s smart, compelling and manages to comment on troubling issues like domestic violence, gaslighting, trauma and toxic masculinity while not pulling viewers out of the film’s story. That being said, I never want to see it again. While it’s certainly a memorable experience, it’s one I have no interest in repeating because it does its job so well.
From the opening scene, Whannell puts viewers in Cecilia’s headspace – instilling every frame with quiet, creeping tension and unceasing paranoia. She knows something is horribly wrong and so does the audience, but for almost two hours there’s a feeling of intense helplessness and dread because Cecilia can’t convince those closest to her that she’s not going insane.
That ties into something else I appreciated about the film – it doesn’t play coy with the question of “is this really happening or is it all in her head?” The story lets viewers know very early on that the title is both literal (there really is an invisible man) as well as metaphorical (Cecilia is the narrative focus here, not the famous monster).
Moss’ work truly shines in both of those areas. While Hodge and Reid are strong in supporting roles, providing much-needed warmth as well as heartbreak when the narrative kicks into gear, the movie is a one-woman-show for long stretches of its running time. Furthermore, Cecilia is interacting with a character who she and the audience knows is there, but Moss was likely talking to nothing but air (director and crew members notwithstanding) when filming. It’s a powerfully brave performance.
The Invisible Man does have a couple of weak spots, however. Following a terrifying opening sequence that establishes the film’s stakes, the plot gets bogged down with clunky exposition for a while. There’s also the issue of Cecilia’s sister, an incredibly annoying character who destroys narrative momentum any time she’s on screen (aside from one gigantic exception). I’m not sure if it’s the way the character is written or if it’s a stilted performance by Dyer, but she’s by far the movie’s biggest problem.
Then there’s the fact that the marketing materials – including a highly effective trailer – are selling a movie that doesn’t exist. This isn’t a fun genre movie like Upgrade, Whannell’s previous effort; it’s a brutally punishing experience that puts audiences through the ringer for two hours. Granted, it’s not the kind of torture porn the filmmaker launched his career with (he co-created the Saw franchise), but it’s a tough watch nonetheless. I’m curious to see how audiences respond. I’m almost certain it’ll have a strong opening weekend, but word of mouth will determine the movie’s staying power. I could see it going either way.
Still, I think going the ultra-cheap Blumhouse route (like the production company’s previous films, including Get Out and Happy Death Day, the budget for The Invisible Man was under $10 million) is a much better way to tackle remakes of Universal’s classic monster movies than the studio’s previous plan. Remember the ridiculous, Marvel-style Dark Universe idea that crashed and burned the moment Tom Cruise’s The Mummy bombed at the box office? Yikes.
Finally, an advisory of sorts: I can’t imagine what watching this movie will be like for someone who has survived – or, God forbid, is still in – a physically and/or psychologically abusive relationship, or is close to someone who has. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, it might be smart to do some research and seek out a few spoilers before walking in blind. Like I said, it’s a good movie, but it’s an endurance test.
The Invisible Man is rated R for some strong bloody violence, and language.
Grade: B
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