The Invisible Man

Review

Rating: R
Runtime: 2 hours, 4 minutes
Director: Leigh Whannell

Quick Impressions:
The premise of this re-envisioning of the H.G. Wells classic The Invisible Man is pretty compelling. The film’s trailer caught my interest immediately. If you’ve ever been abused, controlled, or stalked by someone, then you know that said person remains with you long after they’re gone. The metaphor driving the story is powerful. Every woman who has fled an abuser lives in fear of an invisible man who haunts her whether he is physically present or not.

In the case of Elisabeth Moss’s character, the abuser is literally haunting her. He is actually there, fooling others by making himself invisible, then using the same kinds of tactics he always has to undermine and isolate her, to keep her his victim. It’s a lovely updating of the story. I’ve never been too taken with the work of H.G. Wells, but I do appreciate how neatly writer/director Leigh Whannell has transformed this musty, creepy tale into an extremely timely film. If you like Elisabeth Moss in The Handmaid’s Tale, then chances are this psychological thriller about how a woman can be abused and dismissed as insane, then manage to overcome this ordeal and become her own savior will be your cup of tea as well.

The Good:
For me, Benjamin Wallfisch’s score is the best thing about the movie. The main (musical) theme is arresting and engaging, and throughout the film, the music creates and maintains a commendable (and highly uncomfortable, squirm-inducing) level of sustained tension.

I don’t have the opportunity to watch a lot of recent adult TV, so I’ve never actually seen Mad Men, Top of the Lake, or The Handmaid’s Tale (though I’ve read the book!), but I did really like Elisabeth Moss’s supporting performance in Jordan Peele’s Us. Her performance here is excellent, too. She essentially carries the entire film and is especially strong when Cecilia is at her weakest and most desperate. In fact, Moss is so convincing as a woman perceived as mentally ill that I began to wonder about a potential plot twist. From the trailer, this film promises (and blatantly, explicitly shows us) an invisible man. But part of me couldn’t help going, “I don’t know, though. Look at her face! Look at her eyes! What if they’re right about her? What if she’s having a complete mental breakdown, and we’re seeing things through the lens of her psychosis?” It’s a great performance.

The supporting cast is also good. I was happy and surprised to see Storm Reid (who personally made a very positive impression on me when she played Meg Murray in A Wrinkle in Time). And Aldis Hodge is fantastic, playing the kind of friend we all wish we had.

One of my favorite moves this film makes is presenting Hodge’s character James as a friend who is helping Cecilia. He’s an honest police officer and dedicated father of a teenage daughter who sincerely desires to help get a woman going through Hell back on her feet. He doesn’t take advantage of her, romance her, control her, belittle her. He doesn’t even save her. He helps her. This is wonderful. Usually, in the past, (at least in most movies I remember) when movies show us a woman running from a controlling psychopath, she runs to a male friend who quickly becomes her lover (even though her state of mind is hardly sound). This new man then protects her from the other controlling guy by controlling her himself in a more palatable way. Then in the end, the two guys have a showdown, and the new love interest emerges victorious, saving the vulnerable, damaged woman. But that is not what James does. He is an actual friend who gives Cecilia a safe place to recover from her abuse and helps her to regain her independence and confidence at her own pace. This dynamic is refreshing.

Michael Dorman is quite convincing as the younger brother of the abusive Adrian, also well played by Oliver Jackson-Cohen. Though I had some issues with the way Cecilia’s sister is written as a character, Harriet Dyer does give a pretty memorable performance (especially in that restaurant scene).

This movie isn’t exactly a blast to watch, but it is a torturous slow burn that will make your skin crawl. The bottom line is, Elisabeth Moss’s character gradually begins to appear so deranged that even the audience considers the possibility that she may be delusional. This is a terrifyingly accurate depiction of how real life abusers alienate, gaslight, undermine, and entrap their victims.

Best Scene:
The film’s opening sequence is, perhaps, also its strongest. (I don’t mean the title sequence of the turbulent ocean. That’s fantastic, too, but I mean what that stark visual leads us into.)

This scene of escape is so relatable. Surely not everyone has been trapped in a relationship as extreme as Cecilia’s, but most of us have probably experienced something analogous (if, arguably, less severe in degree). Even if you have never been in an abusive relationship with someone who is trying to control you, surely you know someone else who has lived this story. At the very least, you have encountered this dynamic multiple times in popular fiction (books, TV, movies).

The suspense maintained here is promising. (People happening across this film later while channel surfing or browsing Netflix will surely continue to watch.)  My husband commented that for him, the score heightened the suspense, and I agree.

For me, one of the most telling (and important) moments of this escape sequence comes near its end. A single action reveals to us not only just how abusive Adrian is but also what kind of person Cecilia is. (We see both her inner strength and her specific, exploitable vulnerability). In her desperation to escape quietly, Cecilia takes a big risk by stopping to do something. This simple action reduces the need for so much exposition. In a few seconds, we learn everything we need to know about Adrian and Cecilia.

Best Scene Visually:
One arresting moment sticks in my mind. We see Cecilia, only Cecilia, not just her face but her arms, in profile, facing the left side of the screen (the viewer’s left). There’s a starkness to this shot that I just adored. It relies on Elisabeth Moss for its energy and emotional power and seems like a perfect instance of the cinematographer and the actress creating a poignant moment together. (I’m not diminishing the vision of the director here. My point is that the shot both showcases and enhances her performance but ultimately works as it should because of the intensity Moss brings to the performance.)  

As the story progresses, Cecilia becomes more and more desperate, and Moss makes sure that she looks more and more desperate.  As a result, people become less and less likely to trust and believe her.

My husband and I also found the method of achieving invisibility visually arresting.

Best Action Sequence:
The best action sequence involves flight, pursuit, and a lot of shooting (just really, so much shooting).  At this point, I found myself wondering, “Has the antagonist actually thought this through?”  But it was exhilarating to watch.

The Negatives:
After having watched the trailer and learned the premise, I found the first act of the movie a bit slow. I wanted to be like, “Okay, we get it,” and then restate everything the trailer had revealed to me. “Now let’s get to the good stuff!”

But my husband didn’t have that experience.

I also found Cecilia’s sister Emily beyond frustrating. “Exactly what part of ‘drive’ do you not understand?” I kept wanting to yell at the screen. I think the situation there suggests an obvious conclusion to jump to, and that turns out to be the correct conclusion. I can promise you that if my sister called me up in the middle of the night speaking in hushed tones, then greeted me the way Cecilia does, I would get her out of there first and ask questions later. Haven’t you ever seen a Lifetime movie? What do you think is happening?

This got under my skin the same way the prologue of Midsommar did. (That situation should not be so perplexing. There’s definitely someone to call immediately. It’s 911, not your self-absorbed boyfriend! Call 911! Immediately! If you’re wrong, you and your living family can laugh about it later.)

I forgave Florence Pugh’s character, but I never completely warmed to Cecilia’s irritating sister. The later request she violates and scoffs about is totally reasonable. Then her response to that email! Good grief!

Now, I suppose the movie is actually working well here. It gives Cecilia a sister who might be guarded after coming from a background of abuse or hardship herself. Maybe Cecilia was drawn into an abusive relationship because of her upbringing, primed for it by some sort of trauma in her family life. So maybe her sister is used to being the strong one, and maybe she’s used to discounting the fears of the sibling she feels she must protect (by infantilizing her). I don’t know. But the character is very frustrating.

Of course, Emily (the sister) does exactly what the abuser wants (so often that I began to suspect some plot twist), and this does clearly illustrate for the audience how often close friends and family get fed up with victims, distance themselves, and doom the victim (now completely lacking a support system) to further abuse. I still found myself wishing the sister were somehow just a bit different.

I do think, too, that toward the end of the movie, moves by both the antagonist and the protagonist got sloppy, risky.  The protagonist can be forgiven.  (Good thing she has the friends she does, though.)  But the antagonist’s strategy is a bit more baffling.  A late revelation kind of explains why the person is okay with so much recklessness, but I’m still troubled by the fact that the antagonist basically provides the protagonist with a foolproof way to (eventually) show that at least some of what she has been saying must be true.

I also wish the movie had emphasized Cecilia’s training as an architect a bit more. We do see that she has a better than average awareness of space and that she’s able to use these spaces to her advantage, but I just wanted the story to push on this a little harder. The Invisible Man definitely gives us a clever protagonist who benefits from her training as an architect. I just wanted her to achieve things that no one without specialized training and knowledge could.

Overall:
I’ve never been a fan of the novel The Invisible Man, though I do prefer it to The Time Machine. This movie, however, gives us an extremely timely retelling of the story. This isn’t a fantastical film about imagined advances in optics. The Invisible Man is about abuse, and it’s so realistic that it would be useful to show in a high school classroom, providing an accurate depiction of how abusers isolate and undermine their victims. Elisabeth Moss gives an excellent performance, and the score is my favorite of 2020 so far.  Don’t go expecting a good time, though.

Back to Top