Archive for Elizabeth Moss


Posted in FILM with tags , , , , on March 3, 2020 by dcairns

We went to see THE INVISIBLE MAN, which already sounds like it should be a disappointing experience. But we actually liked it. Fiona had been very hyped to see it, I wasn’t expecting too much, necessarily. End result, I was fairly impressed and Fiona was mildly disappointed, but still liked it.

What we agreed was odd is that although INSIDIOUS and its spawn are silly, the best of them are scarier than this. I recall feeling a really acute anxiety at that one. But what’s good here is that it’s slow and creepy, it doesn’t over-rely on jump scares, and it makes really good use of space. Lots of empty frames. Lots of coats on hooks that look like lurking figures. It has that hypnogogic nightmare feel.

And the trope of making it an abusive relationship drama works well, I think. It never felt exploitative or male-gazey, which would be the worst take possible. So it’s not HOLLOW MAN. We’re solidly on the side of lead Elizabeth Moss as she tries to flee her ex, only to find him, maybe, everywhere.

Oddly enough it refuses to play the game of “Is she crazy?” though it makes all the other characters pose that question and leap to the wrong conclusion. Clearly a deliberate choice. I wonder if there was mileage there, if it could have led us along with Moss (Cecilia — her friends call her C. Get it? See?) and then made US doubtful, made her doubt her own sanity, and then turned things around for the climax. Because, even though the movie puts her through a lot, it never does the worst thing, which would be to successfully gaslight her.

Even without gaslight, which is the primary source of illumination on the contemporary political scene, it feels quite of-the-moment with its “narcissistic sociopath” villain. And, though the INSIDIOUS series was always terribly conservative and Christian, this one is much, much more progressive. I think director Leigh Whannell, who wrote several James Wan movies, has a subtler sensibility, and I’m curious to see what he does next.


Posted in FILM, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 27, 2017 by dcairns

We’re halfway through season one of Top of the Lake, Jane Campion & Gerard Lee’s TV series. (Lee co-directed PASSIONLESS MOMENTS, one of my very favourite Campion things.) It’s not quite auteurist TV a la Twin Peaks, so it doesn’t fill that (rumbling) void — Campion directed most but not all of it. So we’ve just had two episodes directed by Garth Davis. It’s all beautifully photographed by Adam Arkapaw, reminding me of the first True Detective in its landscape work. But you do notice the difference when Campion’s not at the tiller. The shots cut together less fluidly, the changes in shot size are less intelligible.

We get this beautiful close-up of Elizabeth Moss all of a sudden, in the midst of a conversation, and it doesn’t appear to signal an important intensification or development. It feels like either Davis felt he couldn’t sustain the interest with his previous angles so threw this in at random just to liven things up, or he got bewitched by Moss’s eyes, which look normal/small in medium shot but here suddenly transform in the sidelight into great goldfish bowls with targets painted on them. Huge, shiny, fragile, challenging.

“A closeup is like a trump at bridge,” said Billy Wilder, cautioning the filmmaker to only play it when it will have a meaningful effect.

Rewatched it to get screen grabs. I can see better what Davis is up to now. I think the line we cut in on IS meant to be a turning point in the conversation, but it doesn’t quite come off as one in the performance or cutting, which again makes the sudden close-up seem arbitrary. The point when he goes back to his two-shot, a relaxing of the tension, IS lucid and effective.

Fiona’s bothered by the fact that all or nearly all the men in this show are arseholes. I don’t feel persecuted, though. I don’t identify with them. they are the kind of men who make MY life less pleasant at times too. Maybe the plot just isn’t clever enough. With the cast searching for a missing girl, they’ve twice played, or attempted to play, the trick of having a dog turn up in a situation where we might expect it to be the girl. Of course, everything gets better when the top actors come on: Holly Hunter and Peter Mullan are energizing presences here. Although weirdly, when you put Mullan together with the weird coven of recovering women, the mix of crazies kind of cancels out the possibility for involvement. It gets a bit HOLY SMOKE.

Final verdict when we finish the thing — which we will.

Oh, I never got around to praising Happy Valley, which we caught up with quite belatedly.Both seasons. That definitely IS a terrific TV show, and apart from the coincidence of all the characters being connected in multiple ways, extremely well crafted from a story point of view, and with a central character who is both seriously flawed, capable of terrible mistakes — and at the same time, a mountain of goodness. Sarah Lancashire’s eyes aren’t limpid pools, maybe, but bolstered by Sally Wainwright’s writing, she makes an inspirational figure. (And a very credible cop.)