The Invisible
***

Directed by David S. Goyer
Screenplay by Mick Davis and Christine Roum

Cast
Justin Chatwin as Nick Powell
Margarita Levieva as Annie Newton
Marcia Gay Harden as Diane Powell
Chris Marquette as Pete
Alex O'Loughlin as Marcus Bohem

Rated PG-13 for violence, criminality, sensuality and language-all involving teens

     
Reviewed by Lamar Kukuk
5/16/07

If you've seen trailers or TV ads for The Invisible (and if you haven't, you mustn't have been to a movie in at least 6 months...), you've probably seen a lot of a ghostly old man in a hospital gown explaining some really hard facts to star Justin Chatwin:  “You'll never be seen again.  They can't touch you.  They can't hear you.  But if you can solve the mystery of your own death, then you'll have the chance to live again.”  These clips are interesting for a couple reasons:  1)the old guy does not appear anywhere in The Invisible, and 2)what he says is at best partially true.  Certainly this is not the first movie to feature a deleted scene prominently in its' ad campaign, but I bring it up because it speaks to a larger issue with the film.  Brilliant in spots, almost nonsensical in others, it's the kind of movie that screams “I'm been back in the shop for repairs!”  And because it seems that the filmmakers never did quite lick the story, I'm not surprised to see that they changed their own rules a few times while they tried.

Nick Powell (Chatwin) is a “good kid” ready to explode under the weight of his cold, distant mother (Marcia Gay Harden) and a pre-planned destiny.  Just before high school graduation, he plans to hop a plane to London, leaving behind his screw-up pal Pete (Chris Marquette), who's run afoul of Annie Newton (Margarita Levieva), kind of a small-time kiddie crime lord.  But there's more to Annie than meets the eye:  growing up in a nasty, uncaring home, she's got enough of a moral compass to watch out for her little brother (Alex Ferris) and hope he doesn't end up like her.  When her loser parolee boyfriend Marcus (Alex O'Loughlin) rats her out for a robbery, she suspects Pete, who in turn rats out Nick, thinking his pal is already out of the country.  But Nick missed his flight, and instead gets beaten so savagely by Annie & her goons they assume he's dead.  The next day, Nick's ghost is going through the motions of the school day, and learns that no one can see or hear him (the deleted old guy was right about that much).  But there is one exception:  Annie, who dismisses the voice in her head as a troubled conscience.  But is Nick really dead?  And if not, can he get through to Annie in time?

The Invisible has a lot going for it, very little of which has to do with its' plot.  The plane of existence on which Nick finds himself is a pretty unique movie place (at least to those, like me, who've never seen the 2002 Swedish film of the same name that it's a remake of).  Taking as its' premise that a mind ungrounded by a physical body would perceive things as happening the same way they would if it DID have that body, the movie shows Nick throwing things, bumping into people, and generally interacting with the world around him, only to have his brain catch up a moment later with the fact that those objects and people are still right where they were.  I loved how, as he walks through crowds, Nick makes a point of bumping into every passer-by to insist upon his existence.  Even better (and one of my favorite movie moments in a long time) is the shot when he watches a bird slam into a window only to find the avian spirit sitting on his shoulder, just where it expected to end up.

For the first 2/3 of the movie, Nick and Annie are both strong, interesting characters.  The situation in which Nick finds himself allows him to take out his pent-up rage on the people and things around him, only to find them completely unaffected:  a perfect metaphor for the simmering, internalized frustrations men of all ages feel.  Chatwin hits just the right notes to make his character believably disaffected without being unlikable.  Annie is a very interesting character as well, in large part because of how well Levieva walks the line between her thuggery and compassion for her brother.

Alas, maybe it's all that time in the shop, maybe just the problems in trying to adapt a story conceived for European sensibilities to American ones, but once Annie gets wise to the real nature of that voice in her head, the character starts to lose its' edge.  It's almost as though the film views her emotional trauma as something that could be cured with a good makeover (see how much happier and better-adjusted she is when she doesn't have her hat on...).  Things drag on a bit too long at this point (the slow, familiar disintegration of her gang under the weight of their shared secret isn't all that interesting), leading to a pair of climaxes.  The first is physical, and while it has a little “Perils of Pauline” quality to it, I was engaged.  The second is purely metaphysical, and while I understood what it was getting at on an emotional level, I honestly didn't understand what happened or how it was possible under the film's rules.  Granted, there are movies that can't be explained, only felt, and for its' most ardent supporters this will likely be one of them.  But I felt like the final events were truer to what we as the audience were expected to want for the characters than what they would actually do.

At the end of the day, I liked The Invisible.  Yes, it ends on a note of manipulative dissatisfaction (and really ODs on the pop music soundtrack), but when it's on its' game, it's a fascinating and unique thriller.  Director David S. Goyer sets an excellent mood for a while, but seems to have lost control of it somewhere between the reshoots.  Maybe that old guy could explain what happened.

      
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