2.5 stars. Rating: R, for graphic nudity, sexual content, profanity, torture, violence and grisly images
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.12.13
Everybody wants to write the next House of Games or Usual Suspects.
Very few writers are as clever as
David Mamet and Christopher McQuarrie.
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| When Simon (James McAvoy, center) loses his memory and can't recall a really, really, really important detail, the ruthless Franck (Vincent Cassel) insists on securing the services of hypnotherapist Elizabeth Lamb (Rosario Dawson), who quickly starts playing both ends against the middle. Or maybe not... |
Joe Ahearne and John Hodge,
who’ve co-scripted Trance, don’t even come close. With apologies to Edgar
Allan Poe, their irritating little thriller is a dream within a dream ...
within a dream. And probably within another dream. I’m reminded of the more
irritating aspects of Christopher Nolan’s Inception, another drama that tried
much too hard to be crafty.
But whereas it was possible to
trace all the threads within Inception, and maintain their continuity and
interior logic — if only with an Excel spreadsheet — you’ll have no such luck
with Trance. The premise invites mistrust right off the bat, and the
subsequent behavior of its six primary characters is too daft to be taken at
face value.
Which seems to make sense, at
times, because we gradually learn that we’re not necessarily supposed to take
things at face value. Except, apparently, when we are.
Frankly, I think Ahearne and
Hodge just like to jerk us around.
Because Trance is directed by
Danny Boyle — the superbly skilled master of both intimate character studies
(127 Hours) and riveting ensemble dramas (Slumdog Millionaire) — it is
assembled provocatively, from a production standpoint. The various London
settings are visually exotic; cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle moves the
camera in a manner guaranteed to unsettle and disorient.
The performances are compelling
(to a point), the dialogue taut and laced with both latent menace and implied
subterfuge (to an excessive point). The story’s prologue, detailing an auction
house art heist, has all the adrenalin-surging snap of high-tone caper films
such as The Thomas Crown Affair. Rick Smith’s jazz-inflected score builds on
the tension.
For a time, we admire the ride
and crave more of the same. Sadly, things go pear-shaped all too quickly.
