Dune: Part Two

Director: Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson, Josh Brolin, Austin Butler, Florence Pugh, Dave Bautista, Christopher Walken, Lea Seydoux, Souheila Yacoub, Stellan Skarsgård, Charlotte Rampling, Javier Bardem 
Running Time: 166 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)     

Denis Villeneuve's adaptation of Frank Herbert's seminal sci-fi novel Dune always seemed intended as a giant, visually impressive spectacle that doesn't primarily rely on its story to succeed. You could even argue it benefits the viewer not to think too hard about the details for risk of ruining the experience. That definitely holds true for its 2021 predecessor, where Velleneuve overcame the challenges of introducing a world populated by characters who needed to hold our interest through two or more sequels. 

Most of that first film felt like setup, abruptly ending before the main course arrived. Now, after what felt far longer than a two and a half year wait, the sequel arrives. Only this dark, heady, somewhat odd property isn't your usual franchise tentpole, carrying the risk that some fans may find themselves playing catch up with the story. But with its mind boggling vistas, astonishing effects and flawless sound and production design, it does qualify as "epic" in every sense of the word, noticeably bigger and more ambitious than what came before.

Picking up almost immediately where the last film left off, Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) aligns with the Fremen following the destruction of House Atreides by House Harkonnen. Against his pregnant mother Jessica's (Rebecca Ferguson) wishes, Paul is taken in by tribal leader Stilgar (Javier Bardem) as "the chosen one," forming a close bond with Fremen warrior Chani (Zendaya). Now with friend and mentor Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin) back by his side, Paul aims to avenge his father's death while the Harkonnens escalate their attacks to gain control of Arrakis. 

Meanwhile, the incompetent hothead Rabban (Dave Bautista) proves himself a failed leader of the Harkonnens, prompting his Jabba-like uncle Baron (Stellan Skarsgård) to transfer the reigns to ruthless younger sibling Feyd-Rautha (Austin Butler). And as Paul settles into his new role with the Fremen, Emperor Shaddam IV (Christopher Walken), daughter Irulan (Florence Pugh) and the Reverend Mother (Charlotte Rampling) brace themselves for retribution. With fighting between the two factions reaching its boiling point, only a showdown remains in determining Paul's final destiny.

Overflowing with plot and characters, you'd think this follow-up would lend credence to all the skeptics who still consider Dune one of those notoriously unfilmable novels. So it's to Villeneuve and co-writer Jordan Spaihts' credit that they manage to balance it all out and wrangle the themes into a straightforward, digestible package. If someone bypassed the 2021 entry and came into this cold they may not be completely lost, especially since the world itself is as much a draw as the actual narrative.

Paul's journey takes detours and excursions, but all roads leads to his gradual transformation. While we're given some voiceover from Pugh's Irulan, the opening hour mostly consists of his assimilation into the Freman, the burgeoning relationship with Chani and a handful of spectacular battle sequences. Originally, Chalamet was considered a divisive choice for the role, but everything about the character's arc in this sequel lends more credibility to his that casting, as the actor quietly builds on the groundwork laid out in the last film, paving Paul's path from insecure, reluctant outsider to burgeoning leader, despite Chani's legitimate reservations.

Zendaya further extends her 2024 on screen winning streak with her extended take on Chani, conveying just the right mix of stubborn skepticism and practicality opposite Chalamet. We detect her character's unease over what's to come and it won't be long before discovering just how right she is. And as the dangerous consequences of mixing politics and religion remain constant, Rebecca Ferguson's hooded, face tattooed Reverend Mother Jessica (who telepathically communicates with her unborn daughter) will come to represent the inflection point for that conflict.  

As everything converges in Empire Strikes Back style by its end, so too does the rise of the ruthless Feyd-Rautha, terrifyingly played by a pale, unrecognizably demonic Austin Butler. Tasked with stepping into the role originally filled by Sting in David Lynch's '84 attempt, he definitely makes it his own, especially during a black and white coliseum showdown stunningly shot by cinematographer Greig Fraser. 

The more our "hero" avoids fulfilling his prophecy the closer he gets, with that ongoing sense of inevitability hovering over every scene. By the time he eventually reaches his perceived goal, it won't come without major sacrifices he'll continue to weigh as this saga continues. Some of the metaphysical elements are a bit much, but at almost 3 hours, Joe Walker's masterful editing ensures there's no extra fat on the bone, as everything at least feels important and unmissable. Once pulled into this expansive, oddly hypnotizing universe, any uninitiated viewers' concerns should wash away, replaced with anticipation for where Villeneuve plans to go next.  

Dune (2021)

Director: Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Josh Brolin, Stellan Skarsgård, Dave Bautista, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Zendaya, David Dastmalchian, Chang Chen, Sharon Duncan-Brewster, Charlotte Rampling, Jason Momoa, Javier Bardem
Running Time: 156 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Better the longer it sits with you, Denis Villeneuve's Dune has the unenviable task of once again bringing to life the world in Frank Herbert's groundbreaking 1965 novel, while also picking up the pieces from one already perceived failure of an adaptation. There are few major, commercially viable cinematic properties left carrying as much baggage, due mostly to its inaccessibility and heady themes. Despite a story predating Star Wars by over a decade, on paper the plot contains elements justifiably earning those comparisons, albeit with more abstract material at its core, previously resulting in a rough big screen transition. Even if appreciation for his vision has grown slightly since, David Lynch learned found out the hard way in 1984, ensuring it wouldn't be revisted on a similar scale or scope until now. 

Arrival and Blade Runner 2049's Villeneuve seemed as good a choice as any to tackle this, possibly bringing the visual grandeur necessary to distract from, or maybe even enhance, some of the colder, navel-gazing excursions long thought to make it a better read than watch. And he does, giving us the best possible adaptation under the circumstances, even if a feeling of dread may overcome viewers when they see a title card reading "Dune: Part One" at the start of this 265-minute epic. Given the density of its source, that was inevitable, but you have to wonder whether this has the creative momentum necessary to become the franchise it's being positioned as. But it's a success, carefully guided by a director who, to his credit, doesn't try to fit a square peg into a round hole or dumb down a story that takes its time to marinate.

It's 1091 and the ruler of the ocean planet Caladan, Duke Leto (Oscar Isaac) of House Atreides has just been assigned to replace Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgard) of House Harkonnen as the fief ruler of desert planet Arrakis. It's a rough, harsh terrain, but provides the only source of "spice," an invaluable resource critical to human viality and interstellar travel. Unbeknownst to Leto and House Atreides' weapons master Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin), the Emperor is having Harkonnen stage a coup wit his troops to retake the planet, eradicating them before they can control the spice or form an advantageous alliance with the Freman, Arrakis' native inhabitants, represented by tribe leader Stilgar (Javier Bardem).

Leto's concubine, Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), an acolyte of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood, possesses advanced physical and mental capabilities that have been passed on to son Paul (Timothée Chamalet), who is trained by her, Halleck and  swordsmaster, Duncan Idaho (Jason Momoa). While they all sense greatness in young Paul, he has impulse control issues and problems harnessing his powers, distracted by visions of a turbulent future and dreams of a mysterious young Freman woman (Zendaya). A war looms as Harkonnen's fleet of troops and hulking nephew Glossu Rabban (Dave Bautista) prepare to attack. With the fate of House Atreides, as well as the planet of Arrakis hanging in the balance, their futures may depend on Paul answering the call to fulfill his true destiny.      

As involved as this all seems, it's even more convoluted than that, so Villeneuve deserves credit for distilling the script he co-wrote with Joe Spaihts and Eric Roth into a palpable cinematic experience that reaches a certain level of comprehensibility. They didn't exactly hit the jackpot in terms of the breeziest sci-fi tomes to adapt so it's actually amazing how well this holds together, especially in its strongest middle section. For anyone not already familar with Herbert's novel or Lynch's '84 take, what will initially be most noticeable are how many basic mythological tenets it shares in common with the Star Wars trilogy, including a young hero struggling with his lineage who's now suddenly thrust into a leadership role in the wake of family tragedy. 

The use of a Bene Gissert Force-like technique known as the "Voice" that's ultilized to control others actions are where the closest similarities between Paul and young Skywalker end. If the latter was an eager go-getter almost too energetic for his own good, Paul's the most reluctant and introverted of heroes, with Chamalet subtly conveying a quiet confidence, while still registering his character's inner anguish and growing dread in nearly every scene. He's asked to do a lot while at times sustaining an almost absent stillness, putting a lot of pressure on the audience to embrace an entirely different kind of protagonist who must adhere to a philosophy built almost entirely on restraint and passivity, at least until it isn't. 

Since the character of Paul is such a departure, for some it may not be the most compelling thing to watch, but Chamalet completely makes it work, especially in his many scenes opposite a tremendous Rebecca Ferguson as his mother, Lady Jessica, who's simultaneously disappointed in and encouraging of her son. This, and his futuristic visions of Zendaya's Chani might be the film's most successful element, with even cinematographer Greig Fraser's impressive vistas and Hans Zimmmer's score managing to take a backseat (though not too much of one) when those actors are on screen. And while his time is more limited, Jason Momoa finds a way to make maybe the biggest impression as the spectacularly named Duncan Idaho, perfectly filling the cocky, anti-hero warrior role that's been so frequently miscast of late in these big blockbusters. 

That such strong acting assets as Oscar Isaac, Javier Bardem and a slimy, Jabba-like Stellan Skarsgård (buried in prosthetics) are far from an afterthought in an already stuffed A-list cast is a testament to how well Villeneuve utlilizes what he has. Whatever the story's perceived problems or occasional lapses in focus are made up for by them and the sheer spectacle of the fight sequences and effects, especially those ferocious sandstorms. Striking just the right balance of keeping your eyes glued to the screen without going overboard, the ratio of meditative scenes to slam bang action is well proportioned, with visuals that make one of the better recent cases for theatergoing.

A seemingly uncompromised Dune that's free from the pandering you'd expect from a movie this size might the best thing about it, staying true to its vision while avoiding the temptation to self-indulge. Culminating in more of a stoppage than an end, it feels so much like a first part, they may as well just slap a "to be continued" on the screen. How many will want to follow this story into the next chapter is the bigger question, even as it stands as one of the year's bigger technical achievements, awash in imagery and scenes that stay with you long after the final credits. No one expected this new Dune film to achieve perfection, but it's impressive nonetheless, reigniting a spirited debate as to why that lofty goal seems unattainable, both for better and worse.

Arrival

Director: Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Amy Adams, Jeremy Renner, Forest Whitaker, Michael Stuhlbarg, Tzi Ma, Mark O' Brien
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

While watching Arrival, it was hard not to be reminded of that classic Twilight Zone episode, "To Serve Man," in which aliens arrive on Earth and there's some miscommunication as to what meaning is intended by their use of the word "serve." Of course, we were too trusting and paid for it with a final twist revealing the episode title to actually be the name of a cookbook. What happens in Arrival could be described as practically the inverse of this, as well as a reflection of just how much has  changed since that episode aired in 1962. While the use of a skilled linguist like the protagonist at this film's center could have easily prevented that mishap, there's no protection against the cynicism, xenophobia and paranoia that surely would take over once the aliens arrive. If such an event were to occur and they were here to do us harm, there's a decent enough chance we'd destroy each other before having a chance at destroying them. There's no mistaking that everyone's default setting would now be one of fear and resistance.

Those are some of the many elements director Denis Villeneuve and screenwriter Eric Heisserer get right with their cerebral adaptation of Ted Chiang's 1998 novella "Story of Your Life." It spends so much of its running time knee-deep in science and laying out a fairly plausible scenario that it's almost a shock that its final third is devoted to to huge metaphysical and spiritual questioning. But it shouldn't be, since recent sci-fi seems to have fallen in love with the emotional side of the equation, often to these films' detriments. The cynic in me suspects it's a monetarily driven, heart-tugging device used to get families into the theater. In Gravity, it was the memory of a deceased daughter. In Interstellar, it was the bond between father and daughter that broke the boundaries of time and space.

In Arrival, it's again the memory of a deceased daughter that figures heavily into the narrative, but doesn't quite hurt the film to the point of those other two. It's at least organically factored into the story in a way that it inspires thought, even if, like those aforementioned titles, it lays it on a little thick at the end. But it's really at its best when asking the big question: What are their intentions? In other words, to serve man or to serve man? Or maybe it's something else. Tourists just stopping by for a visit? Villeneuve deliberately goes about answering this in a cold, clinical style before opening the floodgates (and for some the tear ducts) in the final third to ask an even bigger, but not entirely unrelated questions about time, determinism and free will. But of the sci-fi films to attempt it, this proves most successful in at least having the brains and patience to satisfyingly follow through on those ideas.

Dr. Louise Banks (Amy Adams) is a linguist teaching at a local university who's frequently distracted by memories of her deceased adolescent daughter, who at some point succumbed to cancer. One of her classes comes to an abrupt end when news reports confirm that twelve extraterrestrial spacecraft have appeared to land in various locations across Earth. She's paid a visit by U.S. Army Colonel Weber (Forest Whitaker), who's recruiting her and physicist Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner) to head a team in deciphering the language of these multi-limbed visitors, referred to as "heptapods."  Despite Louise's initial hesitation, she and Ian are shuttled off to a military camp near one of the spacecrafts in Montana where they'll board and attempt to make sense of a very unfamiliar language, primarily consisting of complicated circular symbols.

For all the headway Louise and Ian make in communicating with these interlopers, the beaurucratic red tape and political unrest between nations make their jobs nearly impossible. Discovering an explanation of the aliens' motives and purpose on Earth proves challenging, unless all the countries' governments can selflessly get on the same page. Louise must also still wrestle with those very fresh, painfully vivid memories of her own daughter, whose life and death seems intrinsically tied to what's happening right now.

It wouldn't be inaccurate to say the film has a set-up that's both narratively and technically masterful, not to mention eerily restrained and realistic. From the moment these mysterious crafts make landfall, there's genuine suspense generated as to its contents, what the aliens look will look like and why  they're here. The story's entire framework is heady, relying heavily on visuals and sound effects once the action shifts into the investigation of the ship itself and possible means of communication. Those expecting another Independence Day will either be disappointed or elated that this shares absolutely nothing in common with an action-oriented project like that, more clearly taking its inspiration from more spiritually-minded SF like Close Encounters of the Third Kind and 2001: A Space Odyssey. And unless you count the familial themes of the former and inherent chilliness of the latter, it's still unfair to claim it closely resembles either of those.

There's real doubt as to how the emotionally fragile Louise will hold up under the physical and psychological pressures of the situation, and at least initially, these concerns are well founded. Heisserer's script makes no bones about the fact that she's a complete mess due to personal tragedy, which seems to be a common, if increasingly tired, affliction affecting female protagonists in sci-fi films. This at least bothers to put somewhat of a new spin on it in the third act, and Adams, the busiest and possibly most over-exposed actress working today gives one of her better internalized performances as Louise in a role that requires quite a bit from her since this isn't an actor's film by any stretch. In fact, the role's kind of subtle, flatlined quality could help explain how the Academy somehow excluded her in the glut of awards season.

Once communication is established to even a minimal extent, the film really soars, offering up fascinating revelations about not only how we'd decipher language in an unusual situation like this, but how we communicate with each other. And Villeneuve believably does all of this step-by-step. Taking a position of empathy and patience with these visitors, Louise fights an uphill battle with Whitaker's hard nosed Col. Weber who wants answer to their motives yesterday, ignoring the fact that charging ahead without the proper preparation and research could have potentially disastrous consequences. There are even points when you wonder why he hired her since he'll clearly do whatever he wishes regardless. Renner's Ian mostly provides a sounding board for Louise's ideas and moral support, until the exact nature of his involvement evolves considerably toward the final act.

This is French-Canadian filmmaker Villeneuve's biggest project yet, having previously directed the well-received Prisoners, Enemy and Sicario. It's also unquestionably his most ambitious, working on a grander scale than we're used to seeing him receive and Jóhann Jóhannsson's buzzing, eerily Kubrickian musical score combined with Bradford Young's creepy, atmospheric cinematography and the Oscar-winning sound design help combine to create an experience that likely puts it a notch above most of his previous efforts, at least technically.

Reactions to the emotional territory it veers into will vary, but without giving too much away, the notion of time becomes a key component, or more specifically our perception of it. By daring to ask the question of whether it's worth forging forward with a happy, fulfilling life as planned knowing certain tragedy awaits, the screenplay cleverly subverts our initial expectations, forcing us to place ourselves in the protagonist's shoes. Of course, in doing so, it can't help but get a little mushy, veering away from the scientific angle that initially made the scenario so compelling. Still, it's impossible to deny that Arrival provokes serious thought and rises above most other entries in the genre by primarily relying on emotion and ideas rather than computer-generated theatrics.
 

Enemy

Director: Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Melanie Laurent, Isabellla Rossellini, Sarah Gadon
Running Time: 90 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

“Chaos is merely order yet to be deciphered.”

It's often said that everyone has a double. In the psychological thriller, Enemy, that idea is pushed to the breaking point with a set-up that dares to go further than just merely acknowledging the occurrence. It's interested in how someone would react and what they'd do if they ever discovered it. At least that's the literal interpretation of the film, and the one I prefer to go with since it's the only aspect of the story that can be proven for sure while watching. And then it works on a whole other level, where you can start to peel away layers on top of layers of information and clues that suggest it's an allegory about identity and how we battle ourselves in both our lives and relationships. Aside from the tense mood and claustrophobic atmosphere created by Prisoners director Denis Villeneuve, the big takeaway is Jake Gyllenhaal's brilliant performance in a dual, complex role that showcases some of his best acting work.

A premise like this is difficult because the film's entire success can hinge on an explanation, and if one isn't given or it's unsatisfactory in the context of what's come before, the whole thing can collapse under the weight of its own ambition. Villeneuve scoots around this nicely, realizing no explanation could possibly suffice. Those who want answers and want them yesterday will only be satisfied if they adjust expectations to appreciate the unique experience on the level it's delivered.

Gylenhaal plays Adam Bell, a kind of sloppy, depressed college history professor who gives lectures talking about how "History repeats itself twice. The first time is a tragedy, the second time is a farce.” He's about to find that out first-hand when a colleague recommends he rent a movie called, There's a Will There's a Way from the local video store. While watching Adam notices an actor in a bit role who looks exactly like him. Both equally troubled and fascinated by the discovery, he does some internet research to discover the man's name is Anthony Claire (acting under his stage name Daniel St. Claire). Despite his growing obsession with this newfound doppelganger concerning his girlfriend Mary (Melanie Laurent), Adam begins stalking him, eventually catching Anthony's attention and that of his pregnant wife, Helen (Sarah Gadon). Their two worlds are about to collide, as both physically identical but fundamentally different men attempt to get to the truth of what's happening.

Prior to his discovery of Anthony, Adam's existence wouldn't be mistaken for anything other than dark and depressing. In fact, our introduction to him in both his apartment and classroom becomes almost uncomfortable to watch in how far the film goes in establishing a man who has completely given up on life, recalling the similarly depressing set-up to John Frankenheimer's 1966 cult classic Seconds. In that film an unfulfilled man trading in his life and physical appearance for an identity upgrade, only to later discover the decision carries dire consequences. Whether that's happening here is a more loaded question, but the protagonist definitely has a "second" whose life he envies, and uncovering his existence is only causing him more emotional pain.  He even seems to be putting himself to sleep during his own lectures, shuffling out of the building with his head down when he's through. His apartment is so dimly lit and desolate it's almost surreal.

The Toronto we're used to seeing depicted in movies (too often as merely a cleaner stand-in for NYC) is boldly reimagined by cinematographer Nicolas Bolduc as a cold, bleak dystopia with danger lurking along the edges in the form of intimidatingly towering skyscrapers and giant insects. Yet, this isn't a sci-fi or horror movie, at least in the traditional sense. It's more of an existential nightmare made all the more frightening because Villeneuve plays everything completely straight, treating the bizarre situation as if it were real without wavering once. Some may say Adam's reaction to discovering his own double is too over-the-top. But is it really? He seems to go through the investigative steps anyone else would looking for answers, only in a slightly more panicked state. It's hard to believe anyone wouldn't be freaked out over it, but for him it only magnifies all his existing fears and insecurities. 

Despite Anthony only being a bit actor he still seems ten worlds away from Adam, as the happier, more confident of the two. But that doesn't mean he's without his own personal demons, struggling mightily to make his marriage work, with apparently little success. Without revealing whether the two eventually meet, the mind of the viewer still races to solve the mystery of how they're physically identical. Are they siblings, the same person, or is this whole thing something else? My biggest concern was the script suddenly turning supernatural, a betrayal that thankfully doesn't occur. It's never presented as anything other than what it actually is right until the end. And about halfway through the suspense is such that you're not sure you even want to know since it could spoil the fun.

Gyllenhaal's real feat isn't that he's playing two characters that look identical yet act wildly different, but that there's never any confusion as to who's on screen at the moment. And he accomplishes this all through body language and mannerisms, which physically make Adam appear smaller in stature to his counterpart, reflective of his depressed state of mind. Appropriately, he plays Anthony much bigger and more charismatically, but without stretching it so far that it feels like a parody. If a half-year Oscars were held right now, he'd be nominated.

The real victims are the women shell-shocked by a development that defies human explanation. Both  are a bigger part of the puzzle than it first seems, with Sarah Gadon making a memorable impression as Anthony's ignored and very pregnant spouse, Helen, who comes face-to-face with a man who looks just like her husband, while possessing none of his qualities (which could be a good thing). That the downtrodden Adam has a girlfriend, much less one played by Melanie Laurent, is probably the most surprising thing about him. But even she seems to have one foot out the door, given how distracted he's been. These aren't sub-plots. The movie is as much about these two relationships than the doppelganger plot, if not more so. You could even argue they're one in the same, transforming this into an erotic, psychosexual thriller of sorts.

When things get really weird there's still this feeling that what we're watching is strangely plausible within the universe Villeneuve loosely adapted from Nobel Prize winner Jose Saramago's novel, The Double. It's true even right up until the terrifying final scene set to the Walker Brothers' "After The Lights Go Out", which is likely be deconstructed and extrapolated for symbolic meaning whenever discussion of the film comes up. That it comes from the same man who brought us last year's unexpectedly gripping Prisoners (also starring Gyllenhaal, but shot after this) makes sense when considering this could be described as a more challenging low budget, indie version of that, doing less plot-wise to accomplish more, leaning more on mood than mystery to tell its story. But it's a mind-blower, deliberately paced and excruciatingly suspenseful, at times combining elements of Hitchcock, Fincher and Cronenberg. It should really come with a warning: Multiple viewings required.
             

Prisoners

 

Director:  Denis Villeneuve
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Viola Davis, Maria Bello, Terrence Howard, Melissa Leo, Paul Dano, Dylan Minnette
Running Time: 153 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Prisoners is one of those thrillers where you can't really reveal anything. The plot is so full of twists and turns that even a basic description risks revealing too much. It's common knowledge that when children are abducted the chances of finding them greatly decreases with each passing minute. This film is about what happens during those passing minutes to the victims' families, the detective assigned to the case and the primary suspect. Having him in custody is merely the start of this strange, twisted journey that doesn't qualify as the run-of-the-mill mainstream suspense thriller or police procedural it was advertised as. Some will claim it does, and that director Denis Villeneuve, writer Aaron Guzikowski and legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins are just doing a really good job hiding it. And if they are, more power to them. But I'd argue Prisoners does bend quite a few rules, keeping you on the edge of your seat for two and a half hours without a clue what could happen from one minute to the next. And yet it never overstays its welcome since those involved seem to know exactly what they're doing, as an overwhelming sense of competence engulfs the project, making it impossible to not be swept along for the ride. 

When Keller Dover (Hugh Jackman) and his family attend Thanksgiving dinner with their neighbors, the Birches, both families' young daughters, Anna and Joy, go out for a walk. They don't return. The only clue is an old RV parked on the street belonging to a mentally disabled young man named Alex Jones (Paul Dano), who has an IQ of a ten-year-old and lives with his aunt, Holly (Melissa Leo). He's clearly the prime suspect, but when the detective in charge of the case, David Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal), brings him in for questioning, it's discovered they don't have nearly enough to hold him. That's when an enraged Dover decides to take the law into his own hands and deal with Alex himself. Things start to get ugly as Loki suddenly has three equally difficult jobs in finding the abductor, locating the girls and managing an out of control Dover, who's hell bent on finding his daughter his way, without the authorities' help. With hardly any support from his superiors, Loki must piece together a series of bizarre clues and evidence, just as another suspect emerges who's somehow even creepier than Alex. Minutes turn to hours and then to days, and with that comes the increased chance this will turn from an abduction case to a murder investigation, and the search will soon be for bodies.

What's atypical here is that the main suspect's guilt is in legitimate doubt for nearly entire length of the picture, to the point that your suspicion of Alex literally wavers from one scene to the next. At first, Dover seems like an irrational hothead so worked up by his daughter's abduction that he's willing to go after the only person who emerges as a believable suspect. While that's at least partially true, he discovers a few pieces of seemingly irrefutable evidence that causes him to (somewhat justifiably) fly off the deep end at the news of his release from custody. Dover may not be an easy character to like, but he's an easier one to root for because it's impossible not to feel for a father put in that situation. If nothing else, you have to respect his consistency even when his methods are flawed. And there's also the very real possibility he's right and that the police squandered the one lead they had..Jackman's an actor known for his natural charm and charisma but it's completely buried here to the point of invisibility. In its place is the pure anger and intensity of a man who will stop at nothing to find his daughter, no matter how much his vigilantism is frowned upon by his overmedicated wife Grace (Maria Bello) and Joy's parents, Franklin and Nancy (Terrence Howard and Viola Davis). You've never seen Jackman like this as the role is a complete 180 from most of what he's tackled before, challenging our perceptions of what we thought him capable of in a leading role.

Gyllenhaal is in full Zodiac mode as Detective Loki, with the key exception being that he's playing as actual cop this time around and the character has a much harder, experienced edge to him. It definitely deserves its place in the "Glylenhaal of Fame" of performances right alongside his work in Zodiac, Donnie Darko and Source Code. Loki's definitely the hero of the story, rarely misstepping in the face of seemingly impossible odds and tangled webs of circumstantial clues. Just as we doubt Alex's involvement, of equal doubt is whether this detective can even crack the case. While much of that uncertainty comes from the twisty plot, credit should also be extended to Paul Dano's unnerving performance as Alex, which fluctuates so wildly between pure creepiness and an almost childlike innocence that we begin to seriously second guess our understanding of the character's motivations. Has he really been falsely accused or is this a superbly calculated performance within a performance? An almost entirely mute Dano never tips his hand too far in either direction with Alex's behavior, all while spending three quarters of the film under physical assault and abuse.

Cold and calculating in both tone and execution, this almost feels like a more mainstream B-side to David Fincher's Zodiac or Se7en. This is especially noticeable in the rain-drenched, darkened setting, which Roger Deakins lights to make as much of a character as any of the actual characters inhabiting it. What starts as a relatively simple case evolves into something increasingly complex and morally ambiguous. That the title "prisoners" could reasonably refer to any number of characters speaks to the script's ingenuity. But more importantly, the the movie speaks to every parent's worst nightmare in capturing the horror of a child abduction in middle class suburbia. Then it goes ten steps further, concluding with a chilling, unshakeable final shot befitting the strongest thriller of the year. Endings are always tough, but this one absolutely nails it, combing just the right mixture of ambiguity and closure. The only worry in revisiting the film is that the revelations are so surprising you'd wonder how multiple viewings could impact the appreciation of how well it narratively holds together. Luckily though, despite carrying a lot of plot, Prisoners gets all the other small, important details right that most thrillers of recent years haven't even bothered with.