How entertaining? ★★★☆☆
Thought provoking? ★☆☆☆☆ 29 April 2014
This article is a review of THE VOICES.Seen at the Sundance London Film Festival 2014. (For more information, click here.)
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“I was afraid to say yes, and said yes,” Jerry Hickfang (Ryan Reynolds)
Russians used to be cast as the baddies, then the British. Lazy cinema loves a shorthand. Mental illness, especially schizophrenia, is still a go-too modus operandi for unimaginative, insensitive filmmakers. One can forgive the use in pioneering fare like PSYCHO or FIGHT CLUB, but the likes of De Palma’s DRESSED TO KILL and RAISING CAIN and many others have the whiff of dubiousness. In KUMIKO, THE TREASURE HUNTER, apparent clinical depression is an excuse for a quirky mini-adventure. Beyond race, gender and sexual orientation, disability is the next frontier for enlightenment. As much as THE VOICES has charisma to spare, the portrayal of someone charmingly disturbed, as the motivator for comedy homicide, is misguided at worst, a bit tired at best.
Milton, an industrial town, population 4,504, is home to bathroom factory, Milton Fixtures & Fittings. Newest employee Jerry has, unbeknown to colleagues, been released into society after a lengthy incarceration. Jacki Weaver’s government psychiatrist is overseeing his assimilation. Blood-soaked credits set the tone. We’re in meant-to-be-funny slasher territory. Jerry hears voices. His cat Mr Whiskers and dog Bosco partake in conversations. Were it not for the fact that Jerry imagines it, there would be a winsome dysfunctional family unit. Mildly gruesome sitcom is what we get instead. Mr Whiskers sounds like a perpetually angry Peter Mullan (actually voiced unrecognisably by Reynolds, as are all the animal voices), while Bosco is all goofy support. Like an old-school Saturday afternoon cartoon, they are the good and bad angels sitting analogously on Jerry’s shoulders. Mr Whiskers represents the lead’s psychopathic side.
Russians used to be cast as the baddies, then the British. Lazy cinema loves a shorthand. Mental illness, especially schizophrenia, is still a go-too modus operandi for unimaginative, insensitive filmmakers. One can forgive the use in pioneering fare like PSYCHO or FIGHT CLUB, but the likes of De Palma’s DRESSED TO KILL and RAISING CAIN and many others have the whiff of dubiousness. In KUMIKO, THE TREASURE HUNTER, apparent clinical depression is an excuse for a quirky mini-adventure. Beyond race, gender and sexual orientation, disability is the next frontier for enlightenment. As much as THE VOICES has charisma to spare, the portrayal of someone charmingly disturbed, as the motivator for comedy homicide, is misguided at worst, a bit tired at best.
Milton, an industrial town, population 4,504, is home to bathroom factory, Milton Fixtures & Fittings. Newest employee Jerry has, unbeknown to colleagues, been released into society after a lengthy incarceration. Jacki Weaver’s government psychiatrist is overseeing his assimilation. Blood-soaked credits set the tone. We’re in meant-to-be-funny slasher territory. Jerry hears voices. His cat Mr Whiskers and dog Bosco partake in conversations. Were it not for the fact that Jerry imagines it, there would be a winsome dysfunctional family unit. Mildly gruesome sitcom is what we get instead. Mr Whiskers sounds like a perpetually angry Peter Mullan (actually voiced unrecognisably by Reynolds, as are all the animal voices), while Bosco is all goofy support. Like an old-school Saturday afternoon cartoon, they are the good and bad angels sitting analogously on Jerry’s shoulders. Mr Whiskers represents the lead’s psychopathic side.
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Jerry and pals live in a disused bowling alley, increasing the already heightened quirky factor. Practically all initial scenes have pink in them, from the warehouse overalls to various shades of office decor. (If there’s a colour-to-themes connection, THE VOICES will need another watch to discern.) The town’s Chinese restaurant has a Chinese Elvis singer and a kung fu display among the buffet. There can be too much kooky, right?
Murderous tendencies kept at bay, begin to shake after sporadic imbibing of meds, and the rejection by office hottie, Fiona (Gemma Arterton), whom Jerry has instantaneously fallen in love with. Fiona is the aloof, Brit looking down on the protagonist, while lovable fellow employee, Lisa (Anna Kendrick), has in turn a crush on Jerry. After accidentally-intentionally stabbing Fiona repeatedly, Mr Whiskers encourages his master, “The first five are always the hardest.”
Movie killing sprees can be a ride, see GOD BLESS AMERICA for example; and as the bodies begin to mount around Jerry, the voyeuristic/cathartic joy just doesn’t step into gear. As much as director Marjane Satrapi (PERSEPOLIS) is a craftswoman, in full control of mise en scène, the psychology, alluding to loneliness and instability, isn’t there to back up the bloodletting.
Touches on, but is not macabre, amusing or moving enough. Cinema schizophrenia portrayal needs a rethink.
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