Invisible Monster - The Invisible Man (2020)
In something that might come as a bit of a surprise (to some people), I made the point of not wanting to see The Invisible Man in the cinema.
Why? Because there’s a certain element of home invasion in movies, especially by things that are silent and unseen, that plays with a primal fear inside of me, a fear that I do not willingly want to visit in a public space. That said, I was intrigued by everything else to do with this film, knowing that, when I got the chance to watch it at home, I could turn it off, pause it, leave the lights on, that type of thing…you know, all of that primal craic?
When most of the world is on lock-down and you’ve made such a film open and available for me to watch at home, though; that is something I can do.
Thankfully, The Invisible Man didn’t go down the routes of threat and fear that I had expected to freak me the fuck out (that’s the clinical term, I believe.) Sure, both are heavily included, but the film doesn’t play things subtly; the trailers, and the very title, make it clear that the threat in this film is nothing more than a monstrously horrible person and the steps he takes in order to control someone else’s life; that is the type of psychology I can watch, enjoy and write about.
The film starts with Cecilia (Elisabeth Moss) in bed next to a sleeping Adrian (Oliver Jackson-Cohen); she consults the clock, gets out of bed and collects her things from around a very fancy and expensive house, careful not to wake Adrian (to the point that she’s drugged him.) There’s a solid sense of paranoia in her behaviour, changing the cameras and alarms throughout the house, though it remains initially unclear if this paranoia is natural to Cecilia or has been caused by something else.
To answer that question, Cecilia is approached by a dog that clearly wants to escape with her, and when the two of them accidentally trigger a car alarm that wakes Adrian, his pursuit, however brief, embraces the standard horror imagery and timing that establishes Cecilia as our heroin.
She’s picked up by her sister Emily (Harriet Dyer) and brought to stay with family friend (and cop) James and his teenage daughter Sydney (Aldis Hodge and Storm Reid respectively); even in their relative safety, Cecilia is uncomfortable leaving the house, convinced that Adrian will be following her. It is only when Emily visits to inform Cecilia of Adrian’s death that some of that fear is lifted; when the sisters attend the reading of Adrian’s will (as read by his brother Tom, played by Michael Dorman), some of that fear and uncertainty is translated into elements of anger and relief, in no small part because Tom’s interactions with the sisters suggests that he too was subject to Adrian’s negative and controlling energies.
The interactions between all of these characters does a surprisingly good effort at creating Adrian as a character who isn’t seen in this film (as is the fucking point, no?), especially given that, even when seen earlier in the film, Adrian was somewhat out of focus with no dialogue.
As Cecilia’s mental health begins an upward progess, it is the viewer, not Cecilia, who is treated to uncertainty and fear: the audience gets a lingering-camera shot of Cecilia stepping away from a stove only for a fire to start. The film then gives Cecilia a night-terror, showing the viewer that something is present in her bedroom, removing her bedclothes and taking pictures of her on her own mobile phone before she wakes uncomfortably.
This is the type of narrative that made me more comfortable towards this film than I expected, although “enjoyable” is definitely not the right word for a threat of domestic, and associated sexual, violence.
It also allowed me, as the viewer, to wholly support Cecilia.
This is more than can be said for the other characters; the unseen Adrian plays with Cecilia in a fashion to challenge her mental health, painting her as either a villain or incompetent in interactions with James, Sydney and Emily. She also attends a job interview, only to find that the portfolio she has brought is empty, despite checking it the night before.
Such beats allow the viewer to join in Cecilia’s frustrations, the film working well to ensure that, as much gaslighting as goes on within the film, it is never directed towards the viewer; whatever danger Cecilia is in, the viewer remains somewhat safe. In fact, while the audience may be concerned for Cecilia’s health, physical and mental, the film goes out of its way to paint her as the “girl next door,” a girl that could be friend or acquaintance of any watcher, and she even has conversation wondering why the wealthy and attractive Adrian could have chosen a simple girl such as her.
So he could control her in every way, obviously.
The film plays with the couple’s relationship in subtle ways that become increasingly more uncomfortable for the viewer, and do not require the visuals of a horror film. When it is revealed that Adrian had been replacing Cecilia’s birth control medication with placebos, the reveal that she is pregnant comes solely for the audience; Cecilia manages to avoid the news, too busy fainting to hear the “oh, and another thing” phone conversation with a doctor.
The fashion in which Cecilia’s mental health spirals downward once more is testament to a strong production that goes out of its way to keep its viewers from turning on the film’s lead, and it makes her decline all the more frustrating and heart-breaking.
Desperate for some sort of explanation, Cecilia attends the home she shared with Adrian, finding the dog still there and proof of a high-tech costume that may have been allowing him (or someone) to stalk and fuck with her. We don’t get to see much of the suit that’s at work here; its high-tech look that, when reviewed by Cecilia, doesn’t really work well with the subtle visuals of the rest of the screen; but that said, it still works better than any other visuals or explanations that could have been used within the film.
Cecilia tries to reconnect with Emily to discuss this, only to have an invisible force kill her sister in the centre of a restaurant, an act done in such a fashion that it looks like Cecilia is to blame and putting her into a mental institution.
Unfortunately, Cecilia’s time in the hospital proves to be somewhat more frustrating than tense; as a film that has already played its card, by letting its audience and its lead know and see the threat that is The Invisible Man, these scenes prove to be somewhat boring as Cecilia is brought up to speed on the facts and figures that the audience already know, with much of this information coming then Tom attends the detained Cecilia, confirming that he is aware of Adrian’s manipulative (and totally still alive) ways, and he wants Cecilia (and child) back.
I’m unsure if such a beat really works within the film; by painting Adrian and Tom as manipulatively similar sides of the same coin, the film takes away some of the threat (and downright shit-headedness) that an invisible emotionally manipulative rapist dick can carry when working solo.
It is also a beat that suggests that such qualities might be in the DNA; such an issue plays nicely into the idea of Cecilia being an unwilling mother but the film moves quickly enough through this that neither we, nor she, have a chance to deal with that. However, it’s a moment that comes at an appropriate time for the narrative, giving Cecilia some sense of power in allowing her to use her pregnancy to keep her somewhat safe from the threat that is Adrian and Tom.
But, in doing so, she puts her other loved ones at risk.
Well, James and Sydney, anyway. Because of course her sister was already slaughtered in front of her in an act that doesn’t really feel like the movie addresses to the level that it should or could.
By establishing some of the emotion of this film and then failing to address those emotions as caused within its own narrative, The Invisible Man doesn’t really give some of its beats a moment to breathe, rushing to a climax where Cecilia toys with suicide, forcing our invisible villain to attacks Cecilia at the hospital in an attempt to save the unboarn babies life. An attempt at a fight-scene of sorts fucks up our villain’s suit, forcing him into becoming visible while doing so; a few staff are killed during some visually beautiful action scenes (that are somewhat reminiscent of director Leigh Whannell’s previous movie Upgrade) but we also have a few survivors to witness such carnage.
While allowing some visually interesting scenes that, above all else, are fun to watch, these scenes lose some of the movie’s logic and character-driven story, turning into a film about a character’s speedy escape from an asylum in order to stop an invisible man from killing James and Sydney to hurt her.
Cecilia arrives just in time to save them and kill their attacker. Only for the film to reveal that said invisible man was Tom and that Adrian is still alive but locked up in the basement.
Most of these denouement beats feel terribly forced, but are allowed to work within the film because of the simple fact with neither Cecilia, nor James, buy into them either. After avoiding its logical beats in order to embrace some visually stunning, albeit somewhat forced action scene, the film goes back to its original beats of manipulations and mental health as a reunited Cecilia and Adrian meet for dinner to clear the air and discuss a potential life together as parents, a life that Cecilia suggests could be embraced if only Adrian would admit to his controlling ways, a conversation that is as much about their relationship as the suit.
When Cecilia steps away from the table to attend the bathroom, Adrian’s internal cameras catch him slashing his own throat. Returning to the room, Cecilia screams for the cameras and rings the police, but then steps outside of camera range in order to sit opposite him with a somewhat joyous and confident face that we haven’t seen before in this film, but feels well and truly earned. While leaving the premises (with the suit), Cecilia is allowed to breathe, and it’s a moment that fully wants its viewers to breathe with her, to analyse her, the movie and the actions therein. Is she as bad as Adrian, or is she the fucking bad-ass heroin that this film (and that women like Cecilia) fucking needs and wants?
This finale is a beat that works powerfully well for such a film, but I can’t help but wonder if this would prove more powerful if it had come with less of those problematic moments as mentioned above. Or maybe those moments are, indeed, needed in order to maintain that such a tense, powerful watch about abusive relationships is seen through the somewhat fantastic glasses of horror//sci-fi.
It’s a small question, and one that I don’t think needs an answer; I will gladly watch Whennell’s next film (and the one after that) and I’ll be very fucking happy to see what I’ve been given.