The Voyeurs

Director: Michael Mohan
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Justice Smith, Ben Hardy, Natasha Liu Bordizzo, Katharine King, Cameo Adele, Jean Yoon
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Prime Video's aggressively unsubtle erotic thriller The Voyeurs is yet another reminder that few other films have been remade as much as Rear Window without being explicitly acknowledged as such. This latest hypersexualized twist on the premise won't be the last, incorporating elements from that and some other knock-offs through the years, many of which are inferior. A recent one, Netflix's problematic The Woman in the Window, was heavily criticized for taking itself too seriously and failing to fully embrace its absurdity, a cardinal sin when dabbling in this genre. Anyone turned off by that restraint should find much more to enjoy in writer/director Michael Mohan's far racier, adventurous escape since the last thing it'll be accused of is holding back.

There are some intriguing ideas here and even if a good amount of them seem casually discarded in favor of third act twists and shocks, it's at least craftly made and features a noteworthy lead performance. But while it may be fun to speculate what these actors could have done with more elevated material, the realization quickly sets in that's just not what this is. If a movie's trying to be a trashy modern day erotic thriller and is, does that make it a success? This isn't Hitchcock, much less Lynch or DePalma, but that's not the goal, as there's this strange pull to it's ludicrousness that makes it hard to turn away despite its obvious narrative missteps. In other words, you get what's advertised.     

Young couple Pippa (Sydney Sweeney) and Thomas (Justice Smith) are on cloud nine having just signed the lease to move into their first apartment together in Montreal. Noticing their windows give them an excellent view of the neighbors across the street, they've taken an increased interest in this mystery couple they've named "Margot" (Natasha Liu Bordizzo) and "Brent," (Ben Hardy). After seeing them having sex in the kitchen, Pippa and Thomas develop a bit of an stalkerish obsession with the pair that they know is wrong, even as they can't seem to control themselves, simultaneously repulsed and turned on by what appears to be a psychologically abusive relationship. But when they realize "Brent" uses the pad to bed models when "Margot" isn't home, things take a more serious turn with Pippa feeling obligated to expose the truth. Complicating matters is her burgeoning friendship with "Margot," leading Pippa to make a fateful decision that sends all four of their lives spiraling toward an unexpectedly tragic destination. 

Much of the opening act consists of Pippa and Thomas jokingly and nervously attempting to downplay their voyeuristic interest until letting their guard down and just proudly submitting to their curiosity. But it isn't all fun and games for long, as it's impossible to overlook the very obvious irony of us intently watching them watch this couple, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it does. After assigning the impossibly attractive neighbors names, Pippa and Thomas get a little too close for comfort, their true lives coming into full view. "Brent" is Seb, a sleazy, succcessful photographer who prefers to go shirtless while shooting his models and "Margot" is actually a seemingly directionless ex-model named Julia who seems to be stuck in his web of gaslighting deceit.

That Pippa just so happens to be an optometrist might be the most notable example of Mohan's obsessive use of ocular symbolism and motifs, executed with all the subtly of a sledgehammer. But it helps that Pippa and Thomas are actually fairly likable, proving especially beneficial in the early going as their couple chemistry and banter is required to move the story along. Similarly, Seb and Julia do emerge as something more than the constructs they start as, at least before things start unraveling later on. 

The White Lotus and Euphoria's Sydney Sweeney has already been earmarked as a major breakout and watching this it's easy to see why since her performance outright carries the film, bringing a heartbreaking realism to some really crazy material and character choices that are questionable at best. But she handles it all, exposing herself in more than just the strictly literal ways, as the admittedly silly but fun script pushes and pulls in wild directions to deliver some decent-sized thrills. Her aforementioned scenes opposite Justice Smith carry a natural vibe to that of those with Bordizzo and Hardy, who are both effective in roles that could be considered bizarro opposites of the two leads.

To its credit, the plot hinges on a big twist that's fairly surprising and insane, destined to either induce unintentional laughter or praise at its sheer audacity. Lacking the typical problem of most modern erotic thrillers that tend to be neither erotic or thrilling, The Voyeurs deserves credit for putting forth an admirable effort in both departments, throwing back to tawdry 90's entries in the genre that used to run on late night TV. It's even clear from the opening title sequence, during which Danielle Steele-stylized credits appear on screen as Angel Olsen's cover of Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face" plays over the action. It's a pretty bold introduction, but also fitting for a film that walks right up to that line and practically dares you to mock it, unafraid of embracing its own campiness.

Bohemian Rhapsody

Director: Bryan Singer
Starring: Rami Malek, Lucy Boynton, Gwilym Lee, Ben Hardy, Joe Mazzello, Allen Leech, Aiden Gillan, Tom Hollander, Mike Myers, Aaron McCusker
Running Time: 134 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Some music artists simply transcend the band with which they were a part, to the point that you even have a tough time even recalling the other members' names, regardless of their enormous contributions. There may be no better example of this in all of rock than Freddie Mercury and Queen. We could talk all day about how Bryan Singer's Bohemian Rhapsody is really a story about the band and that Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon spent years behind the scenes making sure that  would shine through on screen. But make no mistake about it. The film was always only going to be about one man: Freddie Mercury. Queen IS Freddie Mercury. Freddie Mercury IS Queen.

Despite taking great pains to specifically detail and show what each member brought to the table, even going so far as to imply he couldn't musically survive without them, Mercury's shadow will always engulf them. As it should. There's something to be said for giving the fans what they want. Freddie always did, and now he's at the center of a film that does just the same, helping to explain how audiences worldwide have embraced what's been categorized by critics as a by-the-numbers music biopic. And to an extent, that's true.

Controlling parents, egomaniacal genius, failed marriage, self-loathing, band break-up, sex, drugs, record label disputes. It checks all the boxes. Even Mercury's audacity and eccentricity both on and off stage are qualities we've come to recognize in our rock stars. But before Freddie they weren't, and what the film really excels at (and hasn't gotten enough credit for) is in reflecting that breakthrough. And the turmoil brewing inside of a man who just wanted to perform, while still struggling to figure out exactly who he is. The cultural timing also feels right because Queen might just be one of the few classic rock bands that could still be considered underappreciated. It's not a coincidence that among a dream lineup of legendary artists that played 1985's epic Live Aid benefit concert, it's their performance rather than The Who's, The Stones', Bowie's or U2's that's most remembered today. More accurately, it's Mercury's.

The film wisely opens by teasing that concert and closes by taking us there, recreating a watershed cultural moment with chill-inducing emotional and historical accuracy. While many thrills come in seeing Queen get their due, Rami Malek's performance deserves more credit than the actual picture, which is fittingly only following his lead. At first, you're not sure what to make of it, until he submerges himself deeper and deeper, to the point that it becomes frightening just how much of a disappearing act it is. There's no trace of the performer left, leaving us to contemplate what it could have been like to experience Freddie Mercury as a person and performer, along with all the complications and contradictions that entail, not to mention the theatricality.  He's such a fascinating figure that the film can afford to just simply do its job and call it a day. 

It's 1970 when college student and airport baggage handler Farrokh "Freddie" Bulsara (Malek) goes to a London pub to see the band, Smile. Upon learning their lead singer just quit, Freddie, who's been writing his own songs, offers himself up as a replacement to guitarist Brian May (Gwilym Lee) and drummer Roger Taylor (Ben Hardy). At the show, he also meets a young woman named Mary Austin (Lucy Boynton), whom he begins to date and eventually marries. After taking Freddie on as their lead singer and adding John Deacon (Joe Mazzello) as bass guitarist, the band is rechristened "Queen," with  Bulsara legally adopting the name "Freddie Mercury."

Touring across Britain and selling out smaller venues everywhere, the band soon attracts the attention of famed music manager John Reid (Aiden Gillan). With a record deal and a hit album, they tour the U.S. and only grow bigger from there. But Freddie keeps wanting more, as he internally comes to grips with his own sexuality and takes bad advice from manager and self-serving hanger-on Paul Prenter (Allen Leech). With Queen in shambles due to his selfishness, Freddie heads down a path of personal and professional ruin by the late 70's. But before he can vanquish his own demons, he'll need to make amends with his own past, as well as the only family he's ever known.

Feeling most like a standard musical biopic in its detailing of Queen's formative years as an act, criticism has swirled aroubd the fact that dates and chronology were altered to fit the needs of the narrative, condensing key events in Mercury and the band's timeline. It's kind of surprising it's become an issue when far less accomplished biopics are routinely guilty of the same offense, if you can call it that. This isn't a documentary and unless the changes were due to some unintentional oversight (unlikely given Queen's direct involvement), they should only be judged in context of whether it detracts from the story. In this case, it doesn't at all. That these alterations have caused an uproar is more of a testament to how the media enjoys tearing down biopics and showing off their knowledge that that's not "exactly" how it happened.

It's easy to see how a strict, inflexible adherence to every facet of Freddie Mercury's life could easily do more harm than good, stifling the momentum of the narrative and removing any shred of unpredictability. Plus, wouldn't those nitpicking about historical accuracy then only shift their complaints to how safely the movie played it by sticking straight to the facts, in the exact order they happened? And besides, doing that would deprive us of the the film's most memorable scene. 

The scene in question comes when Queen and their lawyer Jim "Miami" Beach (Tom Hollander) are unsuccessfully pitching the six-minute "Bohemian Rhapsody" as the first single for their forthcoming "A Night at the Opera" album to doubting EMI executive Ray Foster (an unrecognizably great Mike Myers). We'll never know whether the events in that room played out exactly as they're depicted, but it's the kind of scene you can easily imagine did given what we know about the 70's music scene and that song, then years away from being appreciated as the group's magnum opus.

So to hear how unmarketable and inaccessible the song is it is out of the mouth of the actor partially responsible for introducing it to a new generation in the 90's, not only makes for an unforgettable meta moment. More surreal than seeing the blistering reviews scroll down the screen are the preceding scenes of them recording the song, which comes as a flicker in Mercury's mind that he makes his bandmates harness. In fact, most of the film consists of them trying to keep up with his energy and creativity.

Malek's performance couldn't exactly be considered a slow burn since everything in this picture moves at such a rapid pace, but his full immersion into the role does kind of sneak up on you. Concealing his Indian heritage and sparring with his demanding father, Freddie escapes from himself through music. And with it, realizes who he truly wants to be, evolving from an introspective lanky kid uncomfortable in his own skin to a wild showman discovering his true outlet onstage. It's here where he feels most at home, and it's when that rock star persona overtakes his life that Malek's embodiment of Mercury kicks into high gear.

Taking over a role originally intended for Sacha Baron Cohen (who exited early due to creative differences), much as been made of the fake teeth, the mannerisms, gestures and voice Malek invokes to physically transform himself. And he does, baring more than just a mere passing resemblance to the late singer. But it's when Freddie flies off the rails with drugs and debauchery in the last third of the film that you realize how much further the actor's gone than just physically channeling him.

The celebrity of "Freddie Mercury" soon infests his inner circle, allowing him to let indulgence and excess get in the way of what matters most. His marriage may have been doomed from the start, but the difference here is that the relationship with Mary doesn't end so much as radically change, creating a fairly unusual situation, as the two remain friends while Freddie wrestles and eventually comes to terms with his sexuality. And, of course, the eventual AIDS diagnosis that the screenplay and Malek handle just right, avoiding disease of the week movie tropes. 

It's true that the other members of Queen are supporting players who probably don't register as strongly as they should. Of them, Gwilym Lee accomplishes the most as Brian May, but even that's stretching it, as this was never going to be about any one of them individually. Nor should it be. What it does convey well is what they collectively contributed and Freddie's ultimate legacy, perfectly encapsulated by Malek in the film's thrilling final 40 minutes, taking you as close as possible to their 1985 Live Aid performance without literally being there. It's frighteningly accurate.

A Queen movie was always going to be a tightrope walk. That we've somehow gotten a PG-13 version that not only feels uncompromised, but does justice to Mercury and the band's significance feels like a miracle given all the problems that befell this production. We're still not even sure who to credit for directing it. Far from perfect, events and timelines are altered, liberties taken and dates changed. On the surface, there doesn't even seem to be much too it. And yet, Bohemian Rhapsody is still so ridiculously entertaining because it deeply understands what Queen and Freddie Mercury left us and the only thing that really matters: the music.