MOVIE
The Invisible Man
Elizabeth Moss, Oliver Jackson-Cohen
Director Leigh Whannell
Review Ray Chan
The Blumhouse studio is notoriously hit and miss, with the stale Fantasy Island the most recent casualty, bombing on all levels.
But when it’s good, it’s very very good, exemplified by Universal’s latest entry in its classic horror cinematic universe, The Invisible Man, which follows on from the first movie in the series, The Mummy.
Screenplay writer and director Leigh Whannell recognises that superficial shock and awe seem to be remnants of the past these days, and looks elsewhere for the scares. Indeed, filmgoers are now so used to special effects that not even the grisliest of made-up monsters can inflict more than just the feeblest of frights.
The real horrors are the ones that do not disappear when the lights come up, those that lurk just outside the theatre doors, and, as the movie’s name metaphorically suggests, lie invisible within the community.
That’s where this offering, like its stablemate Get Out, are so effective, as Whannell injects the classic H.G. Wells novel with verisimilitude and relevance.
The story involves Cecilia (Elizabeth Moss), who has recently escaped her abusive boyfriend, optics scientist Adrian Griffin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), and is now staying at the house of her friend James and his daughter.
When Cecilia learns from Adrian’s brother that he committed suicide and left her several million dollars, it seems that she is safe, but still feels uneasy as she is tormented by an unseen attacker.
Cecilia is convinced that Adrian is somehow still with her, but no one believes her, including her friends and her sister Alice. Is Adrian indeed haunting her from beyond, or is there something more sinister afoot?
The camera floats from scene to scene, imbuing a sense of dread and foreboding in even the most ordinary settings.
The nature of the antagonist is such that the audience never knows where the next attack is coming from, even when it’s looking right at it, and so the scares evoke real tension and fear – somewhat akin to guessing when the shark would strike next in Jaws.
At the crux of the matter is the issue of domestic violence – the real invisible menace here – and the movie’s impact is certainly made that much stronger because of current events involving Harvey Weinstein, and closer to home, the Hannah Clarke tragedy.
Indeed, in many cases of violence in the home, it's often the victimised females whose plights go unseen. Those who have experienced this kind of trauma may feel uncomfortable as the film may bring those feelings to the fore.
But while the fears under the spotlight are real, The Invisible Man uses them as fuel for its effectiveness, never mocking them, and always taking them seriously.
As thoughtful as it's entertaining, as disturbing as it's frightening, the movie stays with you after you leave the cinema, proving its true worth indeed as a horror offering par excellence.
#theinvisibleman# #universal#
The Invisible Man
Elizabeth Moss, Oliver Jackson-Cohen
Director Leigh Whannell
Review Ray Chan
The Blumhouse studio is notoriously hit and miss, with the stale Fantasy Island the most recent casualty, bombing on all levels.
But when it’s good, it’s very very good, exemplified by Universal’s latest entry in its classic horror cinematic universe, The Invisible Man, which follows on from the first movie in the series, The Mummy.
Screenplay writer and director Leigh Whannell recognises that superficial shock and awe seem to be remnants of the past these days, and looks elsewhere for the scares. Indeed, filmgoers are now so used to special effects that not even the grisliest of made-up monsters can inflict more than just the feeblest of frights.
The real horrors are the ones that do not disappear when the lights come up, those that lurk just outside the theatre doors, and, as the movie’s name metaphorically suggests, lie invisible within the community.
That’s where this offering, like its stablemate Get Out, are so effective, as Whannell injects the classic H.G. Wells novel with verisimilitude and relevance.
The story involves Cecilia (Elizabeth Moss), who has recently escaped her abusive boyfriend, optics scientist Adrian Griffin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), and is now staying at the house of her friend James and his daughter.
When Cecilia learns from Adrian’s brother that he committed suicide and left her several million dollars, it seems that she is safe, but still feels uneasy as she is tormented by an unseen attacker.
Cecilia is convinced that Adrian is somehow still with her, but no one believes her, including her friends and her sister Alice. Is Adrian indeed haunting her from beyond, or is there something more sinister afoot?
The camera floats from scene to scene, imbuing a sense of dread and foreboding in even the most ordinary settings.
The nature of the antagonist is such that the audience never knows where the next attack is coming from, even when it’s looking right at it, and so the scares evoke real tension and fear – somewhat akin to guessing when the shark would strike next in Jaws.
At the crux of the matter is the issue of domestic violence – the real invisible menace here – and the movie’s impact is certainly made that much stronger because of current events involving Harvey Weinstein, and closer to home, the Hannah Clarke tragedy.
Indeed, in many cases of violence in the home, it's often the victimised females whose plights go unseen. Those who have experienced this kind of trauma may feel uncomfortable as the film may bring those feelings to the fore.
But while the fears under the spotlight are real, The Invisible Man uses them as fuel for its effectiveness, never mocking them, and always taking them seriously.
As thoughtful as it's entertaining, as disturbing as it's frightening, the movie stays with you after you leave the cinema, proving its true worth indeed as a horror offering par excellence.
