Film Review: The Invisible Man

After the most recent attempt at revitalizing the Universal Monsters with 2017’s The Mummy crashed and burned, it was clear that a whole new approach had to be taken. And sure enough, the answer that seemed the most obvious – stop turning them into hundred million dollar blockbusters, and letting filmmakers apply their own take on the property without dealing with the concern for setting up an interconnected universe. Who’da thunk? Having someone like Leigh Whannell, who has had a long history with horror, tackle the classic and numerously adapted H. G. Wells novel, The Invisible Man, is an inspired choice, and I’m happy to say that he has very much delivered the goods once again.

The story this time around revolves around Cecilia (Elisabeth Moss), a woman who we first meet escaping from her abusive boyfriend, Adrien (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who also happens to be a giant in the field of optics. Things seem fine enough as she recovers in her friend James’ (Aldis Hodge) house when her sister, Emily (Harriet Dyer), delivers the news that Adrien has committed suicide, and has left her a portion of his money, provided she doesn’t commit crimes and is of sound mental capacity. After that, strange things begin happening, things that defy explanation, making Cecilia question her sanity, and…well, it’s called The Invisible Man, you know the drill.

The way Whannell sets the stage here is so ingenious that it all practically writes itself. As the film goes along, I’ll sometimes think about how cool it would be if the film took a certain direction, and then the film would basically do just that, except in a way that is far more clever than whatever I had in my head. While the two-plus hour runtime seems like it’s pushing it, the film moves at a good pace, and it keeps you invested the entire runtime with various fun twists and turns that work wondrously in creating a tense and nerve-wracking experience.

Stylistically speaking, the film is a far cry from the manic mayhem of Upgrade, presenting a more classical atmosphere that still has the kind of irreverent energy beneath the surface that you would expect from anything written by Whannell. He is working with some of the same collaborators such as cinematographer, Stefan Duscio, and editor, Andy Canny, which makes the transition into a different sort of pace and form that much more impressive. The camera work only gets slick during its action beats, but it still does a wonderful job in evoking Cecilia’s paranoid mindset with the various random pans, to the use of negative space, and the blend of on-screen VFX and CGI. The sound design is also impeccable, as well as the booming and ominous score from Benjamin Wallfisch. It all serves to put you in the shoes of our lead, and it comes together beautifully.

Of course, given how much the film works because of the way it puts you in the head of our lead, the film wouldn’t work if the central performance wasn’t all there, which – given that it’s Elisabeth Moss we’re talking about, it’s as committed, weary, and emotionally driven as you’d expect. She commands every second on screen, effortlessly tapping on that fine line between sanity and insanity. She’s so compelling that I almost feel bad for the rest of the cast who will just have to settle with being “very good.” Jackson-Cohen makes great use of his limited time on-screen, Hodge and Dyer play off Cecilia’s anguish well, and Storm Reid makes a strong impression as James’ daughter.

Horror has always been the most effective when it taps directly into societal fears and anxieties, and what is more terrifying today than the wrath of an entitled man? I’ll tell you what, it’s the wrath of an entitled man, who is also invisible. I’m sure many will call The Invisible Man as a horror film for the #MeToo era, which is something I’ll leave to writers who are much more qualified than I am. It’s quite a load for a seemingly unassuming genre picture to carry on its shoulders, and while I can’t help but be curious as to how a female filmmaker would’ve tackled the movie’s themes of abuse, gaslighting, and female trauma, I do think Whannell handles the ideas with enough sensitivity and empathy that is further enhanced by Moss’ nuanced performance.

A lot of times, the most frustrating part of a horror movie is when you have a lead who is trying to convince the people around her that something weird is going on, but no one believes her, and you’re just sitting there, waiting for everyone to get on the same page so that the plot can progress. It seems like Leigh Whannell took that as a challenge, and utilized that sense of fear, paranoia, and frustration to his advantage, and the payoff is so satisfying. Even when the film reaches certian places in a way that feels contrived or downright silly (it’d be hard not to, considering the source material), you’re still invested in the characters, you’re still compelled by the narrative, and you’re still thrilled by the set pieces. It’s thoughtful, slick, fun, and delivers everything you’d want in a rousing, crowd-pleaser horror film.