In the meantime, let’s deal with what The Double is – or rather, isn’t. It’s not Submarine v.2.0, though it does deal with central characters who are suitably quirky loners. It’s not a comedy, but it does have moments that make you smile (albeit in a rather odd, off-kilter manner – Bridesmaids this most certainly ain’t). It’s hard to say if it’s even sci-fi, though I guess that’s the closest genre it cleaves to. It’s as if Ayoade has taken a swathe of influences and banged them all in a giant pot, and The Double is the result. Half a pound of Gilliam, a dollop of Lynch, a slice of 1984, a pinch of Dr. Caligari… though to be fair you could add a myriad ingredients to what’s already a bubbling concoction (enough with the recipe metaphors).
The tale is a simple one, based on the Dostoyevsky novella of the same name. Simon James (Jesse Eisenberg) is a lowly cleric at a data analysis company, who is from the outset falling for the willowy charms of co-worker Hannah (Mia Wasikowska). Shy, awkward, and pretty much unable to articulate his feelings to anyone, his life is clearly headed nowhere until one evening, a neighbour jumps to his death in the apartment across from his. We are never given reason as to the suicide, but soon enough – after several incidents at work that lead to Simon (sort of) losing his job, he spots a doppelgänger of himself (going by the name James Simon – see what they did there?!) now residing in the apartment where the suicide took place.
After the initial shock they become friends, but their differences in character are none more evident. Much like Tyler Durden to Ed Norton’s nameless narrator in Fight Club, James is the confident, devil-may-care opposite to Simon’s lithe “non-person”, as Noah Taylor’s co-worker eloquently describes him. With the affections of Hannah bowing squarely in James’s direction rivalry ensues, as does the very real prospect that Simon may in fact be going completely insane. So far, so quirky – but it’s the central relationship and beautifully subtle twin-Eisenberg visual effects that form the core of this highly flawed but quietly ambitious film.
If there’s one thing that derails the self-contained, Wes Anderson-esque un-reality of The Double, it’s the endless cameos. I was discussing the film with esteemed Cornerhouse usher and gallery host Joel Nicholson, who quite rightly felt that you ended up laughing at actors’ appearances simply because you knew they’d been funny in something else, rather than being funny (or indeed necessary) in the context of the film. This might seem picky, but once you’ve ran the gamut of Tim Key, Chris Morris, Chris O’Dowd, Rade Serbedzija (who doesn’t even have a line), Paddy Considine, Craig Roberts, even (as again Joel pointed out) J. Mascis from Dinosaur Jr., it becomes exhausting and distracting to a fault. What should have been a dark and intense sci-fi with a darkly comic thread running through it becomes a get-together for friends and acquaintances, for no reason at all. With Wes Anderson, his ever-expanding cast of characters feel like a collective, a theatre troupe – not so here, sadly.
It could also be argued that the ending doesn’t live up to the one the original short story offered up – though I won’t spoil things for those not in the know (that applies to me too – a bit of Wikipedia was all I needed). Suffice to say The Double goes out with what feels like a whimper more than a bang, a slightly confused wrap-up that feels like it’s trying to make a neat conclusion to something that should be far darker. Though all things considered, you can’t knock Ayoade for having the courage of his conviction to create a film that feels deliberately contrived, a style-and-some-substance mash-up that spirals out of control in places, is indulgent with its casting, but has a hell of a lot to enjoy about it too. It’s the antithesis to what David Cameron might feel best represents the British film industry (I’m looking at you, The King’s Speech), and for that alone, it’s worth its weight in gold.
No comments:
Post a Comment