The invisible man (2020) – a review.

A young woman –Cecilia- finally manages to escape the clutches of her abusive husband Adrian. Soon after this he commits suicide. Yet, something tells Cecilia that her husband isn’t dead. That he is using his skill in the field of optical-technology to torment her once again. Is Cecilia seeing things or is her husband truly the invisible man.

The invisible man is what a good remake should be. It takes an old movie (the 1933 version with the same title) and updates it to current times.

Visually, by updating the original English countryside inn and barn in favour of a massive neo-modernist beach house (with lots of glass). Plotwise; technology instead of magical potions.
And, thematically; this version’s main theme is abuse, because that is a prominent feature in our current collective (western) landscape.

The movie ended the way it was always supposed to end. The script was pretty straightforward in that regard. The title of the movie is The invisible MAN. It’s all about masculine power play over a woman and her changing from victim to survivor. So of course, to highlight the end of her transition the movie needed The invisible WOMAN to end it all.

Where so many remakes fail, The invisible man succeeds. The reason for this is quite simple really: the remake only truly needed to tick two boxes of the original: there has to be a man and he has to be invisible. The rest the moviemakers could ‘fill in’ as they saw fit.

It is interesting to note here that every invisible man movie sofar (it haven’t been that many to be honest) rather uses the current technological advance of the day to make said man invisible. Memoirs of the invisible man (1992) used gamma rays; Hollow man (2000) used some sort of chemo therapy. And so this one uses sleek and stylish technology straight from the Apple factory.

It’s quite another story if you are remaking (for instance) Papillion (1971, 2017). Then the movies have to address a whole array of elements. There’s not a lot of freedom.

The invisible movie genre

When it comes to invisible men in movies there are various personal traits you can hand the bloke. Rodney Skinner in The league of extraordinary gentlemen (2003) was a thief and a spy. A handy character to have around in a movie that deals with a world encompassing conspiracy.

But if the invisible man is the main character of a movie those personal traits become part of the thematic of the movie and/or character. For instance:

I think dear Violet Incredible is the only (well known) female in cinema who gets to turn invisible.

Her original thematic for her powers were shyness.

Memoirs of an invisible man; a regular bloke who took life for granted and now wants his normality back. Il ragazzo invisibile (2014); becoming an adult. Hollow man; a peeping tom and a control freak. And, now, The invisible man; An narcissist.

So, as you can see, invisibility grants the movie a variety of thematics to play with. Just like the good ol’ vampire movies love to play with thematics surrounding youth, religion, and, of course, lust and sex.

But in any archetype-story one thematic is always the most prominent. For the vampire-stories it death. And, I argue, invisible movies always use the thematic: sneaky. Doing, or being somewhere that isn’t allowed. Like Harry Potter (2001) exploring the library at night.

With this comes the conclusion that an invisible man movie works best if the man in question is a villain. Because a villain is far more comfortable doing something sneaky than a hero. A villain might keep it up the entire movie whilst the hero constantly needs new reasons to turn invisible again (like Dexter Riley’s actions in Now you see him now you don’t (1972)).

The invisible villain

Interesting about The invisible man –I found- is that the main villain doesn’t appear on the screen for more than three minutes or so and that is predominantly near the end. This hauls back to the original The invisible man (1933) in which Claude Rains was already invisible to begin with. You never meet him face to face as it were so the man stays a mystery, there’s no connection.

Paul Verhoeven’s Hollow man took a different approach. This movie took quite a bit of time to get to know the main character Sebastian Caine. And, even though, Kevin Bacon pretty much played him like an unlikable smuck from the get go you do bond with this character; as an audience will always bond with the person who is on screen most of the time no matter whether they are villains or heroes. No matter what they do (e.g. That gut wrenching scene in Once upon a time in America (1984)).

This does, however, create a possible problem for The invisible man by the way that it is shot.

The villain invisible

You never truly see the danger that Adrien is. All you get from the movie to accept this statement is his brute smashing of the car window at the start of the movie

A very clever story technique that shows how uninhibited and violent a character is.

and Cecelia’s fear of him. This concept works a charm the minute you make Cecelia an unreliable character.

However, in The invisible man she stays rather reliable throughout. The viewer gets to see exactly how she is constantly being framed by the invisible man, there is no ambiguity on whether or not she is telling the truth. So, ergo, her stories about the danger that is Adrien has to be the truth as well.

I, for one, would be rather intrigued the see what would happen if Whannell took the Rear Window-route (1954). Constantly questioning if the protagonist is right; or even right in the head like in Twelve Monkeys (1995).

Which would mean: leaving all the shenanigans of the invisible man out. And only in the end spring the revelation that we are talking about a literal invisible man here instead of a figurative invisible man working behind the scenes or from the protagonist’s damaged psyche.

The director

Leigh Whannell is quickly growing as a director. I’m rather impressed with what he managed in The invisible man. Both the acting performances he managed to capture as the way he uses the camera (the opening shot alone is wonderful).

Who would’ve thought ten years ago that the golden child James Wan would end up making enjoyable but not very memorable blockbuster movies like Aquaman (2018) and The fast and the furious 7 (2015). And that Whannell would take over his friend's reigns and craft smart little thrillers.

But then again; Whannell has a remake of Escape from New York lined up and Wan is going back to his roots with a thriller called Malignant.

The invisible script

As always in Whannell’s screenplays the important plotdevices get introduced early and in quick succession. Without spoiling too much: the knife, the fire extinguisher and the hidden compartment amongst other things are thrown in early and openly without any pretence of hiding it for the audience.
So this little fire in the kitchen-scene servers three purposes: the introduction of the knife, the introduction of the fire-extinguisher and establishing a solid relationship between the two females.

That’s what I always liked about Whannell’s screenplays, they are clear. Every scene has a function and he hardly every mucks it up with scenes leading nowhere.

I do, however, blame him sometimes for ignoring the obvious. In the case of The invisible man the script tends to make the criminal too smart, too much in control. Which, at certain times, makes you wonder how this woman ever managed to outsmart him like that.

The acting invisible

One of the famous things to say about an actor or actress is to say something like: ‘She doesn’t appear to be acting at all.’ I never truly agreed with this statement, but I understand the compliment behind it.

In The invisible man it is Elizabeth Moss who is front and centre throughout. Because of the lack of a visual threat the entire movie is on her shoulders. She has to act and react to things ‘not there’ and the audience has to take her ‘word’ on this.

In short Moss has a deliciously juicy part that allows her to showcase her talent as an actress. And she does quite brilliantly. She never truly goes over the top (which would be easy to do in such a fantastical tale) and manages to find a balance between a whole array of character-emotions shifting between empowered, victim, paranoid and just plain old fightin’ mad.

True some of the abovementioned choices of 'seeing what the invisible man does' made during this movie rather weaken her performance in the whole. But that certainly doesn’t diminish the fact that she gives quite the performance.

More invisible men

Originally it was the intention to make a Dark universe much like the Marvel and DC universes only this time featuring the monsters from yesteryears. This dream however imploded the minute Dracula: Untold (2014) and The Mummy (2017) failed at the box office.

But maybe that was a blessing in disguise. Because movies like The invisible man work on a small scale. Let vampires and lycanthropes have their all out war in various massive blockbuster movies and let the invisible man and Dr. Jekylle and Mr. Hyde operate on a smaller scale.

Free from the Dark universe, Whannell managed to craft a small thriller with a fantastical concept at its core. And, again, free from the Dark universe this movie has found its audience.

It is interesting to see once again that a good movie doesn’t come on order. It comes from people given the freedom to create something that they think is right.

The invisible man is a well crafted thriller that fits perfectly in our current era in which female rights and technological advances are hot topics.

Who said a ninety year old story is dead? It just takes a new perspective to see what is possible. To see what was once invisible.

Fairness, and unfairness in computer games.

State of Decay; I just cleared a hundred metres of zombies. I ran them all over with my car. I’m hovering over this strange ‘Cleo’-device. What’s suddenly growling behind me? A zombie. Did I miss it? Maybe.

Same game; I’m helping out some fellow survivors. Due to a glitch my car gets stuck under the house. I run to the next car. Suddenly there’s a horde of zombies (including some feral) waiting for me who weren’t there a minute ago.

Is the game messing with me? I’m starting to think it is!

Fairness: Outgame.

Here I wish to talk about fairness in computer (video) games.

What is fair? Nazis spawning behind you after you cleared the field in Return to castle Wolfenstein? Some silly toadstool telling you that the princess is in another castle? Or a massive ordeal to get through without any savepoints like Battletoads.

Fairness in games begins and ends with the people making those games. This means that their logic and reasoning is in play here. So; Alex Kidd in high tech-world for the SEGA Master System.

I mentioned this game before on this blog. I think.

To get past a guard-post, during this game, you have the opportunity to craft your own fake passport. There’s a book dealer who sells books on ‘how to craft your own passport’. There’s a shop selling printing presses. I believe there’s even a shop selling paper and ink.

Does this all work? No, of course not. The guard recognizes that your passport is a fake and kills you on the spot.

In fact you have to pray at a temple 100 times to make a ghost shaman appear who gives you a true passport.

Where is this shaman mentioned? Nowhere!

Never throughout the game is the shaman mentioned; let alone the praying 100 times.

So any player would come by the temple; pray a few times –for his/her own sanctitude and move on.

This was the first time in my life when I realized that, sometimes, games were stacked against me!

Just think about it, go to the past with me –hold my hand: me, a young boy, incapable of getting past this guard. So I called the SEGA-GAME-helpline (there was no real internet back then – I’m that old), 50c per call.

The (nice) guy on the other end of the phone told me the answer instantly. He didn’t even have to take time to look it up (which told me how many frustrated ten-year-old-boys called before me – and (nowadays) how little videogames there were out there, back then).

So by paying an extra fifty cents over the cost of the game I was ‘allowed’ to continue my game.

Is this fair? I think not!

Fairness: A distinction.

So, reading the previous, there’s a distinction to be made here. 1. Honesty ‘Ingame’. And, 2. Honesty ‘Outgame’.

I think it’s clear from my above example that number 2. Does occur. There’s no way I would’ve figured out ‘praying a hundred times without the ‘lifeline’ (0,50 cents a beat).

But continue this train of thought to the present.

I mean; is it fair for EAGAMES to charge players extra amounts of money to play a game? I mean they used to call it upgrades, extra content, now they call it microtransactions. I all boils down to the same thing: coercing players to give money to get better at a game.

Is this fair? I think not.

Just like my little Alex Kidd in High-Tech world-example. Gamers should be allowed to play the games they bought without interference from ‘either’ call-in-help (obviously), bad ports,

A welcome hello to Silent Hill: Homecoming, which is unplayable without outside help.

A ‘bad port’ is nothing short that a ‘console game’-producer releasing a game to PC without

checking whether the game that works on a PS3 might actually work on a PC. Negligence.

or, ‘Buy-up’ upgrades. A game should remain a game. But that’s not how economy works.

Nowadays we, the world, are playing against each other. And we all want to beat our opponent.

In Asia this, apparently, works rather fairly. Occasionally a guy gets killed because he sold a (virtual) magnificent sword a (virtual) friend lend to him (look it up).

But, apparently, in western games this fairness isn’t allowed. Here the game is stacked so that those with the most money to spend get better at the game. (Notice here how I used the word ‘get’ instead of ‘are’). No more skill involved. Is this fair? I think not.

Fairness: Ingame.

Having argued that some games suffer from a ‘lack of fairness’ due to outgame influences I also wish to highlight some ingame issues I stumbled upon during my playtime.

Sometimes, there are just games that are too hard to beat either because the programmers were some sadistic b*stards (hello again: Battletoads), because the programming itself isn’t flawless (hello: Lucius III). Or, and this is the point I wish to focus upon, because the programming allows ‘unfairness’.

In any game of Tetris the pieces you get to work with are generated by chance. Tetris is basically a
gambling game with some slight amount of skill involved. Like poker you can have all the skills of reading signs, calculating chance and counting cards; yet, in the end, a big portion of you actually winning a hand relies on the chance of getting dealt good cards.

Tetris is the same; do you stack up high waiting for that one long piece (appropriately named: hero) or do you play it safe and keep your stack low?

If a game is based on chance, I argue that any apparent unfairness should be regarded as unintentional. If you gamble you should be able to take a hit every once in a while.

Take They are billions per example. Now this is a game that is hard to beat.

The reason for this is rather clear from the start. The game deals with zombies. And each zombie is (programmed) set to attack any nearby human (settlement). This works like an infection. So if one zombie spots you, so does the nearest to them, and the nearest and so on. In short: on false move and you suddenly got a horde against you. This is fair.

For those who wonder: Yes, I have a thing for zombie games.

But, fairness, becomes questionable when you look at ‘survivor mode’ within the game. In this mode the computer generates a map, drops your town hall somewhere in the middle and places a finite amount of zombies around it.

The object of the game: if the town hall falls the game is over.

So strange situations occur in which you find your town hall strangely placed (e.g. close to a zombie den. Or placed in the wide open even though there is a beautiful sheltered –more defendable- spot close by). Now, I argue, a schism becomes apparent between this ‘computer generated chance’ and narrative.

In the blocks of Tetris or the cards of poker there is no underlying narrative to influence the chance. They are billions, a game set in a world where humans have to fight zombies, nobody, in their right mind, would place their town hall in the middle of an open field. It’s not lot logical from a preservation/human perspective.
The cards are dealt the way they are. But in

The computer generating the map obviously doesn’t understand human preservation logic, it’ll just drop the town hall anywhere. But any human would look at the landscape (chance) and place the town hall accordingly (narrative).

So, I argue that if a game has a narrative at its base an overreliance on chance based dynamics cause the game to become: less fair.

Similarly; that’s why I hate respawned enemies in any First Person Shooter. If I just cleared a section I don’t want to find sudden respawned enemies there if I can’t justify how they could’ve come there from a narrative perspective.

Usually just a door the enemies could’ve come through would be enough to create the (narrative) illusion.

Fairness: skill.

Games are about skill! Not everybody should be allowed to finish them. That’s why there are levels ranging from easy to hard.

Battletoads is an extremely difficult game to finish. There are only so many lives you can gather on the way and then there are a million obstacles blocking you towards the finale.

One could, rightfully, say that Battletoads was deliberately made too hard by the programmers.

On the other hand one might realize that game makers at the time were exploring the capabilities of the players . What were they capable of? It’s an honest question.

Except for those speed runners. Those people are unfathomable.

Fairness, I argue, implies a game based on skill without trying to influence the skill by means of either outside ([micro] transactions) or inside (narrative destroying chance) elements.

And I haven’t even mentioned the auto-saves which makes a lot of games way too easy to beat.

There has to be a balance.

Luckily a lot of games strike this balance just right. But ever so often –after you got your behind beaten in a playthrough- you should ask yourself: 'Did I lose fair and square?'. ‘Was this fair?’