Kritiken

While its jump-scares and ghoulish violence play well in a boisterous theatrical crowd, writer-director Leigh Whannell’s POV-shifting twist on the H.G. Wells classic also proves potent for lone viewing at home.

While the Saw franchise can dangerously slip into a kind of admiration for the perverse spectacle of Jigsaw’s “genius,” The Invisible Man demonstrates a maturation in Whannell’s thinking about masculinity and power, ideas present in his previous films (Insidious, Upgrade) that now appear to have undergone more rigorous treatment.

There’s a moment about midway through the new film “The Invisible Man” that shocked me so vividly, I did something I’ve never done at a horror movie: I shot out of my seat and let out a scream. As the scene continued, I couldn’t move. The woman next to me also screamed, uncontrollably. It was heaven.

As for the script’s apparent masterstroke of switching focus from the title figure to his victim, it’s at once effective and frustratingly under-realized, swapping out some of its most disturbing imagery and implications at the halfway point for more conventional revenge-movie satisfactions.

The result is a potent, sleekly realized allegory for the condition of women (and specifically women in the film industry) in the age of #MeToo.

With his ingenious updating of The Invisible Man, writer-director Leigh Whannell changes perspective from the mad scientist to the terrified victim he's stalking, which effectively turns the film into Gaslight with a horror twist. And with an actress of Elisabeth Moss' caliber in the lead role, the film has a psychological realism that's unusual for the genre.

For all the authentic thrills that the film eventually delivers, it leaves the feeling of a terrific idea that’s been left on the drawing board. Despite the seriousness of the movie’s themes, it’s a work of fervent showmanship.

The film’s title now refers to the hidden threat of an unseen, yet lethal, patriarchy. But this movie doesn’t fight against under-recognized male hegemony; it is very much part of contemporary Hollywood hegemony, imposing social-justice trends on our culture.

The full title of H.G. Wells’s 1897 novel is “The Invisible Man: A Grotesque Romance.” Written and directed by Leigh Whannell, this shrewd, cleverly updated version plays with the different meanings of “romance” by fusing the basic conceit from Wells’s uncanny tale with the fallout of an abusive romantic relationship.