Directed by:
Leigh WhannellScreenplay:
Leigh WhannellCinematography:
Stefan DuscioComposer:
Benjamin WallfischCast:
Elisabeth Moss, Oliver Jackson-Cohen, Storm Reid, Aldis Hodge, Harriet Dyer, Benedict Hardie, Anthony Brandon Wong, Amali Golden, Michael Dorman, Sam Smith (more)VOD (3)
Plots(1)
Trapped in a violent, controlling relationship with a wealthy and brilliant scientist, Cecilia Kass escapes in the dead of night and disappears into hiding, aided by her sister, their childhood friend and his teenage daughter. But when Cecilia’s abusive ex commits suicide and leaves her a generous portion of his vast fortune, Cecilia suspects his death was a hoax. As a series of eerie coincidences turns lethal, threatening the lives of those she loves, Cecilia’s sanity begins to unravel as she desperately tries to prove that she is being hunted by someone nobody can see. (Universal Pictures US)
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Reviews (14)
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.
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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%
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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.
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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.
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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.
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