Nocturnal Animals

I had been looking forward to this movie, as I have been a fan of Jake Gyllenhaal ever since his turn as a creepy journo in Nightcrawler. Plus it looked so slick and stylish and promised to be a dark, powerful revenge story.

Slick and stylish it was – Tom Ford was able to translate his fashion sense to the big screen well, but as much as it was beautiful to behold, it lacked substance. Beautiful, but hollow. Draw as many conclusions as you like from that, considering the industry in which he made his name.

Quick synopsis: Susan, a posh art gallery owner, gets sent a manuscript from her ex-husband, Edward (who is less posh and wealthy) – it’s a book that he has written and it’s just about as dark as anything that he has ever done. Susan reads the book. That’s basically it.

The film cuts in and out between current reality, past reality and the happenings of the novel that Edward has written. The contrast between these three timelines is superbly set out: Susan’s presumably unhappy life in the now is represented by cold, stark, minimalist, modern architecture and décor, punctuated by fake yes people she has around her, who are essentially caricatures of wannabe snooty art types. Her past, in which she gets together with Edward, features softer lines and is warmer. The novel’s middle of nowhere desert setting is harsh and barren and somewhat reminiscent of a moody Western. Points for style, though I must point out that the opening sequence, while tres artsy in the modern sense, was incredibly cringey, particularly if you have an aversion to naked fleshy persons.

Ford also makes a lot of use of symmetry – in the characters themselves as well as visually, in the transitions from one timeline to another. It’s obvious that the people in Edward’s book are “mirror images”, if you will, of Edward, Susan and her daughter. (Jake Gyllenhaal plays both Edward and Tony, who is the main character in the novel, and Isla Fisher (playing Tony’s wife) has a passing resemblance to Amy Adams.) There is also an underlying theme of male “weakness” or perceived weakness, which manifests in different ways in Edward and Tony. Hell, there’s so much symbolism and symmetry in this movie that it’s worthy of an entire school literature paper on it.

While Adams and Gyllenhaal are decent in their roles (though Adams doesn’t have to do much except look sad/thoughtful at various times), I thought Michael Shannon, as the policeman/sheriff’s deputy or whatever lawman he was supposed to be, was the star of this one. Gruff, but sympathetic, and flawed like any human, law enforcement or otherwise, he brought real character to Bobby Andes. Aaron Taylor-Johnson also does an accomplished, but unexpected and totally unrecognisable turn as bad guy Ray Marcus – polar opposite of his slightly nerdy Kick-Ass role.

So, if everything is so good, what’s so bad about it? I can’t quite put my finger on it. Perhaps it’s the fact that, aside from the story played out in Edward’s novel, nothing actually happens in “reality”. Perhaps it’s because Susan’s reality seems so fake. But probably the biggest reason is because of the ending. It is a let down of note. I was expecting something massively cruel to happen, or some clever twist, a sting in the tail to teach Susan a painful lesson. The novel’s ending was good. The film’s ending? Insipid and disappointing.

7/10 - 9/10 for style, 5/10 for story