At a particular instance in “Prisoners” the camera moves from a set of surveillance monitors covering a man presumed to be the child-abducting psychopath. By the time the frame reveals Jake Gyllenhaal, his hand unconsciously fixed on his face, his gaze unsettled, I realized that I was sharing the character’s troubles…right down to his physicality.
The fact that I was transfixed in this position moments (or was it minutes?) before Mr. Gyllenhall isn’t the point; the point is, that this is not a rare moment. This edge of your seat vulnerability happens about every other scene in director Denis Villeneuve’s film.
Like Mr. Gyllenhaal, who plays Loki, the detective who becomes our emotional anchor, we’re at a disadvantage: We know two girls, one belonging to the Dovers (Hugh Jackman and Maria Bello) and the other to the Birch’s (Terence Howard and Viola Davis), have disappeared without a trace.
The first suspect, Alex (Paul Dano), who Loki nabs within the film’s first 30 minutes, has the intelligence of a 10 year old. The other, defined in the beginning paragraph, isn’t cooperating. The big reveal is a slow one, right down to “Prisoners” 151 minute running time – and it is equivalent to a graduating anxiety attack.
Effective is an understatement. So is spellbinding – or any other adjective. However, I can settle on one word that may seem a little less valuable, but more apt: deliberate.
So much of “Prisoners” is “deliberate” (including the title). Its opening frames, set in the snow-capped Pennsylvania backwoods consist of a deliberately slow tracking shot, as Mr. Jackman’s Keller Dover recites a prayer (he is a devoted man of god, we learn). Keller runs a struggling carpentry business, and Mr. Villeneuve – and ace cinematographer Roger Deakins – uses this protracted reveal and Keller’s faith in god to the best of advantage. The next time Keller says these prayers, you feel their absolute impact – and you flinch.
Almost everything the Dovers and the Birches do or go through is pretty much ascertained from knowing them in the next ten minutes. The helplessness, indignation, and angst of parenthood metamorphoses into revenge, and this change – a significant bulk of Aaron Guzikowski’s screenplay – is as unflinching as it is warranted for someone in these circumstances. (Mr. Guzikowski’s previous work “Contraband” worked a different struggle for close family).
However, watching Keller adopting the means of revenge almost forces the viewer to reach out and stop him; the descent into madness is maddening in itself.
Mr. Gyllenhaal’s Loki works as Keller’s perfect counterbalance; he is a calm, stereotypical cop, with his slightly twitched mouth, nearly overhung potbelly and a dedicated sense of duty. We never see anything from Loki’s personal life, but within the bounds of these people’s affliction, I don’t think it mattered if he had any.
Mr. Villeneuve’s last two works – Incendies (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incendies) (also a contender at the 2011 Oscars, and the reason behind Mr. Villeneuve’s “Prisoners” gig) and Polytechnique – are prime examples of the ‘severe’ he can serve up.
Though as grim and measured as “Prisoners” is, Mr. Villeneuve is more invested on the ambiance and buildup rather than the minimalism of the plot. The climatic reveal isn’t that out of the world – but then what is? The means and motivation of the abductor, when made apparent, is as simple and self-assured as any youngling’s infantile sense of belief.
Unlike most of our lives, something does need not be overly complicated to make sense – or get a definite place (make that multiple places) at this year’s Oscars. It need only be successful for whatever emotion(s) it conveys. Released by Warner Bros.
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Viola Davis, Maria Bello, Terrence Howard, Melissa Leo and Paul Dano.
Directed by Denis Villeneuve; Produced by Broderick Johnson, Kira Davis, Andrew A. Kosove, Adam Kolbrenner; Written by Aaron Guzikowski; Cinematography by Roger Deakins, with Editing by Joel Cox, Gary D. Roach and Music by Jóhann Jóhannsson
“Prisoners” is rated R for cruelty bordering on savagery and distress one should never suffer.