The new Hugh Jackman thriller Prisoners was the No. 1 movie this past weekend, earning an estimated $21.4 million at the box office. Though there was really nothing else worth seeing in theaters, I wondered how much interest there would be in this film.
The trailers and commercials made Prisoners look like a compelling drama, but the subject matter of child abduction might be something people would prefer to avoid. Although the promise of an angry Jackman punishing those he views responsible for the kidnapping might be the sort of revenge fantasy parents could get into. Additionally, Jackman and co-star Jake Gyllenhaal make for some attractive leads. That shouldn't be underestimated.
Good reviews surely helped lure moviegoers. The film earned a 77 percent "fresh" rating at Rotten Tomatoes and drew many critical raves from the Toronto International Film Festival, building anticipation and possible Academy Award consideration. I suspect much of the critical acclaim comes from yearning for serious, more substantial films after a disappointing summer blockbuster season. Prisoners is the first of the quality dramas we'll be seeing for the rest of the year.
However, I didn't think Prisoners lived up to the hype and won't get much Oscar love. It was an intense thriller that looked great and had some fine performances, but ultimately lacked something for me. Here are the problems I had with it.
I hate seeing good (or great) actors wasted: One of the most appealing aspects of Prisoners is its fantastic cast. Besides the aforementioned Jackman and Gyllenhaal, Terence Howard, Viola Davis, Paul Dano, Maria Bello and Melissa Leo make out the rest of the main players in the story. Howard and Davis have been nominated for Academy Awards, and Leo won the Best Supporting Actress trophy in 2011 for her role in The Fighter.
Yet all of these actors are relegated to secondary roles in what's really a showcase for Jackman. It's refreshing to see him in a lead role besides Wolverine, portraying rage without popping metal claws from between his knuckles or running around without his shirt on. (Sorry, ladies.) Jackman shows he's capable of leading a serious drama, not just superhero or musical blockbusters.
Howard, in particular, is wasted playing a sidekick role. I understand his timid, more compassionate character is supposed to be a contrast to Jackman's vengeful, furious crusader. But he's also depicting a father whose daughter has been kidnapped, who is presumably terrified for her safety. Yet he's so feeble that it almost seems as if his character just doesn't care as much about getting his child back, which can't possibly be true.
But at least Howard gets to do something. Poor Bello spends most of the movie in bed, numbing herself by drugging up on anti-anxiety medication while her husband is out searching for their children and beating the crap out of the guy he believes committed or knows something about the kidnapping. Anyone who's seen Bello in one of her better roles, such as A History of Violence, Prime Suspect or even that third "Mummy" movie knows she's capable of kicking some ass too.
Davis gets one great scene, in which she sees the consequences of the decision Jackman has made yet acknowledges it might be their only recourse. In the face of that horror, she attempts to appeal to the presumed (perhaps wrongly) kidnapper's humanity, hoping that finds a way to the abducted children.
The story doesn't follow through on its promise: Perhaps director Denis Villeneuve and screenwriter Aaron Guzikowski had no pretentions of trying to say something with this film. Maybe they just wanted to tell a story and didn't intend to make a bigger statement. Filmmakers can often go the wrong way when trying to do that. Maybe this was supposed to depict how a child abduction affects a family and to what ends a father will go to rescue his daughter.
But it sure felt like Villenueve had some higher aspirations here. The beginning of the film makes it very clear that Jackman's Keller Dover considers himself deeply religious. He recites The Lord's Prayer. Crosses dangle from his neck and rear-view mirror. He listens to sermons on the radio while driving. Dover is also a survivalist, someone whose basement is stocked with all sorts of supplies and gear in apparent preparation for some apocalyptic disaster. Or maybe he's still worried about Y2K.
To me, it felt as if the point being made was that you can believe as deeply in your faith as you'd like and prepare for what seems like the worst, but nothing can equip you for the horror of losing a child, of not knowing if she's alive and safe.
The story is also seemingly concerned with the place of evil in this world. Some of that can't be explained, naturally. Bad people do bad things. Predators have terrible urges and impulses. Some simply have no concept, nor remorse, for committing terrible acts. But holding strong religious reliefs doesn't necessarily make you a good person either.
There are no easy answers. And for some character to suddenly explain or question such concepts aloud could be inauthentic. Yet it felt to me as if the movie didn't push far enough and seems rather shallow because of it. Are we just supposed to sympathize with Dover essentially going Guantanamo Bay on a suspect, imprisoning and torturing him? Are we supposed to question the irony of his faith and preparedness being useless to him? Are we supposed to ask just who is truly sinister in this story?
There's definitely something to be said for leaving the audience to find its own answers, and I'm usually in favor of that. Show, don't tell, as writing instructors would say. But it didn't feel like enough here.
The supervillain problem: Alyssa Rosenberg wrote a piece for ThinkProgress recently that addressed what she termed the mastermind problem, the idea that a villain is such a brilliant planner that he seems almost omniscient in anticipating every possible situation and outcome. If you watch The Bridge on FX, perhaps you've been turned off in recent episodes by the story's serial killer planning for every eventuality, including schemes depending on developments that couldn't possibly have been foreseen.
Prisoners doesn't stretch into the unbelievable with its villain. There's no vast scheme with all sorts of intricate parts that took years of planning before its execution. Dover's daughter wasn't abducted because of something her father did years ago, and the villain is now enacting vengeance on the entire family.
However, once the villain is fully revealed, this becomes a different movie. Maybe it's impossible to be a serial kidnapper without planning contingencies for being caught. I'm sure investigators and profilers could speak to that. In a drama, the kidnapper can't be entirely apparent from the beginning or you don't have a movie. But when the villain's true nature is discovered, it doesn't seem entirely believable.
Casting made the villain obvious: I saved this for the end because it's difficult to mention without spoiling the movie. So you might want to avoid this part if you haven't Prisoners yet.
I think my primary problem here is that the villain wasn't a surprise. So the big shock was anything but that. I suppose the bad guy can be obvious to the viewer early in the story. The drama then comes from whether or not Dover is going to find his daughter. But Prisoners sells itself on the mystery. That's what propels the story.
Dover kidnaps Dano's Alex Jones, believing he's not telling the truth and literally tries to beat it out of him. Jones's apparent mental deficiencies seemingly make him incapable of kidnapping children and hiding them. Yet in one of the more chilling scenes in the movie, we see that Jones is capable of committing cruelty with an almost innocent lack of remorse. Perhaps he really did do this.
However, we know Jones ultimately can't be the villain because of who else is cast in the movie. An Academy Award winning actor typically doesn't take a secondary role with no influence on the story unless he or she really wants to work with a certain director or the other players in the cast. Someone only two years removed from an Oscar win very likely isn't going to play the token character of a doting, protective aunt. Such a talent is cast for a reason, and her presence in a seemingly simple role is a dead giveaway early on. That was tremendously disappointing.
