Runtime: 2 hours, 33 minutes
Rating: R
Director: Denis Villeneuve
Quick Impressions:
Prisoners is one of the darkest movies that I’ve seen in a long time, and (rather surprisingly given its nightmarish premise) it’s also one of the most cerebral.
For months, I’ve been feeling conflicted about the previews. On the one hand, as the already paranoid mother of a very friendly and fearless four-year-old girl, the thought of two little girls potentially being abducted by some weirdo played by Paul Dano (acting odd as only he can) made my stomach turn inside out and start crawling up my throat in a most disconcerting way (not like there’s a good way for that to happen, of course).
On the other hand, what a cast! Seriously, lots of films boast all-star casts, but a principal cast consisting entirely of Oscar nominees? Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Terrence Howard, Viola Davis! True, despite tons of awards attention, Maria Bello and Paul Dano have not technically been personally nominated for the Oscar, but the movie makes up for that by giving us not only an Oscar winner (Melissa Leo) but the Tony winning Len Cariou to boot!
Of course, my excitement about the cast won out. As I watched tonight, I was also relieved to note that Prisoners did not disturb me in the way that I’d feared. (Don’t get me wrong. Certain story elements are incredibly creepy.) It’s just that the whole thing is so cerebral, there’s hardly time to feel (except for the scene with the sock. That’s pretty wrenching).
For one thing, the plot is very intricate and full of twists—like a labyrinth or…I don’t know…a maze, you might say. Also the movie raises such serious philosophical/moral/religious questions and addresses them so earnestly and relentlessly that I found myself responding primarily in an intellectual way to what I saw on screen. If you’re currently taking an ethics class, and your professor has asked you to lead a discussion based on the popular film of your choice, then boy are you in luck! There’s enough going on here to keep an ethics class busy for an entire semester. (I’m serious. I think you could teach an entire course on ethics using this movie as your primary text—though, as I’m thinking about it, for a secondary text, you might want to go ahead and pick up an ethics textbook just to be safe.)
The Good:
Prisoners reminded me of so many other movies. First—and always in the Jake Gyllenhaal scenes—it had a serious vibe of Zodiac (a movie that scared the hell out of me for weeks because, um, what?! The Zodiac killer was never caught?! So he could still be out there somewhere waiting to kill unsuspecting engaged people or their fiancés just weeks before the wedding ceremony? That’s just a hypothetical, mind you. Of course, the whole thing seems much less scary now that I’ve been married for over six years.)
Then about thirty to forty minutes in, I kept thinking, Didn’t I see this movie last Oscar season, except then it was starring Jessica Chastain as a tightly wound CIA operative?
It also has flashes of Mystic River, Se7en, and (for me, at least) Fight Club. (Granted most of that last one was in my head, but I could not stop wondering, Why does Detective Loki keep blinking his eyes so much? Doesn’t he sleep? Is he secretly Tyler Durden?)
Anyway, these similarities were mostly tonal (though obviously the Zero Dark Thirty connection was thematic with some flashes of plot, as well). Prisoners plays like a crime procedural with soul, and it’s a bit of a mind bender. I mean, there’s not a full-blown Shyamalanesque twist ending (i.e., they’re all really dead! It’s actually a dream! Everyone’s a tiger!), but it does keep you on the edge of your seat trying to figure out which of many guesses you have about the resolution is actually going to pan out.
But even though there’s mystery, suspense, and some riveting action, this isn’t just your typical popcorn flick. Prisoners wants to make us feel and wants even more to make us think. In fact, it insists that we think and confronts us over and over again with various moral dilemmas. Seriously it seems tailor made for an ethics discussion. Each of the characters responds to adversity in a unique way and (as a result) faces a specialized set of challenges and raises questions without easy answers.
Back when I was still unmarried and hyperaware of the Zodiac killer, I taught a couple of courses about the rhetoric of Civil Disobedience, and every time Gandhi and satyagraha came up, I’d find myself deeply conflicted when confronted by the problem of how to respond when someone threatened violence against someone in your protection. Something that is usually fairly clear cut (i.e. violence is wrong, find non-violent means of protest) gets muddled incredibly quickly when suddenly you’re not dealing with violence against you, but rather with violence against somebody you love instead.
Life loves doling out ambiguous gray areas and huge chasms separating what’s good from what’s practical. Clearly you have the moral high ground if someone attacks you and you respond by saying graciously, “Let’s try to talk this out. What you’re doing is hurting me. I appeal to your sense of reason and morality. Please stop this.” But if I were the woman over in the corner being raped, I think I’d find it hard to be too impressed by the high minded morality of my brother or husband or son or father standing there non-violently protesting my rape. I think at that point, I might prefer to be married to the crazy guy with the temper who solves problems by knifing people.
Plus even though I’m naturally somewhat meek in my interactions with strangers and casual acquaintances, I’m afraid I’d have to get a little stabby myself if someone posed an imminent threat not to me but to my child. If you hurt me, I’ll get over it. If you hurt my children, watch out.
This would be so inappropriate for children, I found myself thinking repeatedly. (The R-rating must be mainly for the adult themes. This isn’t like one of those unrealistic action movies with fantasy violence or some flick that got an R rating because of pervasive language or one sex scene or King George showing flagrant incivility while trying not to stammer). Prisoners is a very adult movie, with profoundly adult themes. Children watch movies and think, I’m going to grow up and be the good guy. Adults watch and think, How do you be a good guy? Is it even possible?
That’s mainly what this movie is about. How do you be the good guy?
Terrence Howard is absolutely marvelous here playing a character who’s pretty far outside his usual box. For the first half (or at least the first third) of the film, Howard’s character Franklin is the person I felt for most. I truly sympathized (empathized even) with Franklin because he’s honestly trying to do the right thing, and circumstances just keep making it increasingly impossible. Watching the anguish on his face, I thought of all the cartoons where the angel and devil pop up over a conflicted character’s shoulders. Franklin, unfortunately, is plagued by an over-abundance of devils, and a marked lack of moral support. He’s forced to step into the angel role himself, and with the slightest help or encouragement, he might behave very differently. But there’s no help for him. It’s quite a pitiable (as well as relatable) fix he’s in, and Howard gives a marvelous performance. Unfortunately, I think the part is too small (comparatively) to get Oscar attention.
Viola Davis is terribly impressive as his wife, too. As usual, she does more with a well-timed look and an emotive presence than most actors can do with every soliloquy in Hamlet. Davis always gives powerful performances, and her work here is absolutely riveting. She gets one of the most emotionally powerful moments in the entire movie. (Actually she gets several, but her declaration—almost a command—to her husband as they pull up at home comes across particularly powerfully.) Already I’ve seen nomination worthy supporting roles from Oprah Winfrey, Sally Hawkins, and Octavia Spencer this year, and those are only the highlights, and it’s only September! I’d love to see Davis squeeze into a Best Supporting Actress nomination, but I’ll be stunned if there’s room for her, especially given her relatively small amount of screen time, and the mainstream commercial appeal of the film.
Another problem is that Melissa Leo deserves a nomination, too. (She’ll never get one either, but she’s so good here. My mother says repeatedly that Melissa Leo didn’t deserve the Oscar for The Fighter because she was just playing herself as she does in every role. This is patently ridiculous, of course, but if you’re like my mother and haven’t really seen Leo in anything but The Fighter, it’s much easier to believe. I wish I could recommend this movie to my mother to show off Leo’s actual range, but this movie is far too dark and morally problematic for her tastes.)
Most Oscar Worthy Moment, Hugh Jackman:
If Jackman can somehow worm his way into supporting, perhaps he can get some traction and at least score an Oscar nomination for his wonderful turn as Keller Dover. He’s actually the lead, of course, but apparently that’s how you win a Supporting Oscar these days (just ask Christoph Waltz, Rachel Weisz, or a slew of others), so maybe Jackman can jump on the bandwagon. (If he misses a nomination, he can always console himself with his past Oscar nomination, his Tony and Emmy wins, his cult status as an iconic comic book hero, and the adoring love of millions of fans both male and female.)
The moment with the sock is one of Jackman’s best, but I also like his conversation near the liquor store with Detective Loki, and basically every time he loses his temper with anyone. Jackman makes Keller Dover so sympathetic. We see that he is deeply flawed, but still we appreciate his strength and can easily imagine ourselves in his shoes.
On the way home, my husband noted, “If something like that happened to us, I would want to do that.”
I added emphatically, “I would do that.”
It’s wrong, no doubt. But it’s highly practical. This notion of doing something bad to prevent someone else from doing something worse to someone innocent is immensely compelling. Sometimes I think that love means no longer caring what’s right or wrong but only caring about the well-being of the other person. It’s that old idea of knowingly choosing sin to prevent someone more vulnerable from being sinned against or sinning.
But then other times I feel more like Terrence Howard’s character.
No, no I don’t. I’m more like Keller Dover. But I feel more sympathy for Howard’s character. He’s the one who knows that it matters to be good. Commendably, he does not seem comfortable with the idea that one can bring about good by doing evil. I think he’s right about that, but I identify with the darkness in Dover. If someone were hurting my child, I would do anything to make it stop. The well-being of my own soul would not particularly concern me at that point. It’s all terribly disturbing, but that’s reality for you. I mean, if it were as easy as every little boy thinks it is to grow up and be the good guy, we’d have a world full of heroes, and there would be no crime or suffering.
Anyway, the brilliance of Jackman’s performance lies in the depth of his emotions and the quick fluidity of his transitions between them.
Most Oscar Worthy Moment, Jake Gyllenhaal:
I think this is the most I’ve ever liked Jake Gyllenhaal in a movie, and it’s probably his best role since Brokeback Mountain. He gives a very strong performance. By the middle of the movie, Loki becomes the clear standout among characters to root for. He’s the one least mired in moral ambiguity and most empowered to do something legitimately helpful (although it’s hard to trust him at times).
His frequent long blinks distracted me to know end though. Why does he keep doing that? I know someone with ADD who blinks that way when he’s thinking¸ possibly because he’s being overwhelmed with sensory input. I wondered if the detective is prone to noticing everything going on around him, hyper-alert and extra blinky. I also wondered if Gyllenhaal was trying to give the character a little extra oomph through trick mannerisms—in the vein of Joaquin Phoenix in The Master.
The blinking is odd, but the performance really works, anyway. Among several standouts, my favorite Loki moment comes at the end of his most unconventional interrogation. (You’ll know it when you get to it.)
Best Scene Visually:
Paul Dano and Viola Davis have a moment together that’s pretty riveting thanks to their respective faces. His is telling a whole story. Hers simply belongs to an amazing actress who excels at emoting non-verbally.
We also get lots and lots of scenes that look like the kinds of realistic landscape paintings (by no artist in particular) you’d find hanging on the wall of a friend’s house in the country.
The film also offers some brilliant doubling. (My favorite is a character who serves as a double for Hugh Jackman in terms of ethical decisions.) But some of these moments are visual, such as circumstances that Jackman and yet another character eventually come to share.
Best Action Sequence/Best Scene:
It’s a draw. One scene involves Hugh Jackman moving slowly. The other involves Jake Gyllenhaal driving fast. They’re both late moments that I don’t want to spoil.
The Negatives:
Maria Bello does not need to be in this movie at all. I really like Bello. She’s a talented, high powered actress, and Prisoners completely wastes her. I mean, for most of the movie she’s just lying around unconscious in bed. You really don’t need Maria Bello for that. She feels kind of shoe-horned in there to get the movie extra attention from the people who give out awards. To be clear, I have no complaints about the quality of her performance. I just think she deserves a more substantial part. (Or more practically, they could have replaced her with a lesser actress.)
Now that I write this out, it seems like a very weird complaint. Who complains about the cast of a movie being too talented? Me, apparently.
Another thing that bothered me about this film was how distanced I felt from all of these events emotionally. There were moments that hit me in the gut or made me cry. But so much of the film is so disturbing, and yet I was so intellectually engaged I had trouble responding emotionally. I think the movie might have been more powerful if it had been less intriguing.
The ending is also incredibly abrupt. The movie drags on so long, and the final scene is so jarringly sudden (it has an almost clipped quality) that you begin to suspect that later we’ll get a director’s cut that runs another thirty minutes. Maybe they ran out of time before they ran out of story. I don’t know what exactly would happen with the extra time—maybe a post-credits Avengers scene where Samuel L. Jackson steps in to save the day by recruiting one of the characters. Maybe we’d get a surprise cameo by Lauren Bacall delivering an iconic line. I don’t honestly know, and to tell the truth it doesn’t matter much. We have a pretty good idea of the likely possibilities that will come after the movie ends. The problem is less that the resolution is insufficient than that the final scene is jarring.
Still these are not huge problems, and I must admit, after almost three hours in the dark, I was pretty ready to come home.
Overall:
Prisoners features fantastic performances from a cast packed with stellar actors, a suspenseful plot that keeps us all guessing, and enough philosophical and moral dilemmas to keep an ethics class busy for an entire term. Though it is extremely dark, it could be more depressing still. Instead, it manages to end on a bizarrely uplifting note and should be of particular interest to people of faith and people who don’t understand why others have faith. Whether you’re an ethics professor, a worried parent, or you just enjoy hearing Hugh Jackman snarl, Prisoners has quite a bit to offer fall audiences. But do not under any circumstances take your children (and beware that you’ll leave worried that someone else may have taken your children while you were out at the movies all evening).