Last day to watch on Netflix: The chillingly scary movie that will give you chills for 125 minutes
What happens in the impenetrable privacy of two adults who agree to pursue a relationship, even in the face of mounting difficulties, would surely fascinate the most inventive fiction writers. Love begins to clothe itself in the rags of violence, and yet deep down it seems to hold the veil of enchantment that one day was able to unite these two souls in what was announced as a shared destiny, strong enough to face the harshness of existence. A magical territory where only the images of what needs to be stored are condensed, a very limited fraction of memory echoes through thoughts in an endless loop, giving the illusion that love is a linear story, without any setbacks or any misunderstandings, which polluting logic and transforming life into what we want it to be, not what it actually is. A superhuman effort begins to be made to keep the memory of the good times always ready, in the form of a very strong sedative, the only way to support lovers who are no longer able to evoke a more pleasant feeling. The two of them are left wanting the other to disappear, and even if that ends up happening, there’s still plenty to settle that won’t admit of comfortable oblivion.
Pain that resists the passage of time and inspires revolutionary discoveries – and cursed – is Leigh Whannell’s raw material in “The Invisible Man” (2020), a chronicle of relationships that stretch beyond the bearable and become a martyrdom for the parties, no matter where very much it is. of them the battle takes more than the other and pays too high a price for wanting to be happy. Whannell became known for bringing an essence of humanity to scripts that excel at elevating fantastical or technological aspects of the story, a quality more than evident in “Upgrade: Update” (2018), for example. “The Invisible Man” reinforces this concept and is based on the impeccable text of HG Wells (1866-1946), one of the emblematic authors of the best science fiction literature. Wells’ secret, deciphered and reproduced in the director’s text, is to carry the imagination to the fullest without giving up developing the intimate conflict between his characters, which is not overshadowed by the motto and constantly remains in the spotlight.
One of the strengths of Whannell’s narrative is staying in the present and presenting the characters that suggest what’s happening on screen isn’t crazy – when we all know how vile the book that gave rise to it is, written in 1897 and current. and even prophetic in presenting the subjects he touches with the greatest caution. Elisabeth Moss’s Cecilia Kass is the fragile woman in whom the director invests a good deal of his hope and guarantees a more or less certain return thanks to the astonishing control the actress achieves over her protagonist, a performance also perceived in “Nos ” (2019), Jordan Peele’s racist dystopia. Moss is undoubtedly the right performer for the exact role; her not-so-obvious beauty is capital, which she uses shamelessly to make the plot about a somewhat abandoned woman who finds herself completely dependent on her lover, Adrian Griffin, the famous scientist played by Oliver Jackson-Cohen – for me it It seems to me that maybe Jackson-Cohen is too young (and too good-looking) to be the physics fan Whannell wants us to think he is, but let’s go. After showing the sequences in which the gap between the two is clear, with coldly studied dialogues, the film goes into the terror that justifies it, a moment where the frames, sometimes wide, sometimes claustrophobic, and the direction of the scene carefully work – especially in the passages where Cecilia is tormented by her ex-partner, who returns from the dead as a very real ghost – gives the dimension of the ordeal the character will suffer until the end, when the director raises a terrifying doubt.
Movie: The invisible man
Direction: Leigh Whannell