Warning: I reference a certain film later in this review that might give away this one for more astute movie-goers.
Danny Boyle. A movie from the "mind-fuck" thriller genre. Solid cast. Comparisons to Christopher Nolan's brilliant Inception. All signs point to what should be a winner from the Oscar-winning director, but unfortunately, Trance falls short of its lofty goals. I am normally a sucker for this type of storytelling-- films where the concept of reality is multi-layered and flexible-- and indeed Trance wears that badge of honor on its sleeve. But just because a movie is twisty, labyrinthian, and non-linear doesn't automatically make it a home run. The characters have to grab the audience as well; we have to not only know the answers because the movie is structured like a puzzle but because we genuinely care about the characters. With one exception, that element is what's missing here. Trance is a feast for the eyes and never boring, but I couldn't help but feel underwhelmed when all was explained.
Trance starts out like a high-energy heist movie before taking a turn for the strange. Simon (James McAvoy) is a deputy art auctioneer who initially appears to thwart a robbery of a Goya painting, but in reality, he's an inside man who's in serious debt to a dangerous, charismatic thief named Franck (Vincent Cassell). During a struggle, Simon is knocked out and Franck makes off with the painting only to discover the suitcase its supposedly contained in is empty. The blow to Simon's head gives him amnesia and he becomes unable to remember where he hid the painting. When fingernail-pulling torture doesn't suffice, Franck and his cronies enlist the aid of hypnotherapist Elizabeth (Rosario Dawson) in hopes to draw out Simon's repressed memories. But as we all know, any film that deals with memory is rife with red herrings, and as the story progresses, questions about what is real plague not only the characters, but the audience.
Trance is actually based on a 2001 British TV movie of the same name, so it pre-dates some of the more popular "mind-fuck" movies audiences are familiar with (like Martin Scorsese's Shutter Island and the aforementioned Inception). Boyle's movie can't be accused of being a rip-off, but it unfortunately cannot measure up from a character identification standpoint. The problem isn't that the protagonists are "bad guys"-- plenty of movies have kept our rooting interests with less-than-noble lead characters-- but that there's nothing to latch onto about any of them. Simon is a dull lead with little in the way of charisma or sympathy, and I frankly found it hard to care about where he hid the painting and whether he lives or dies. The whole movie is like that-- always interesting because we're never quite sure what's real-- but only because we're conditioned to wanting to know the answers.
James McAvoy does a fine job as Simon, but this is really an anonymous role that any capable actor could play. Vincent Cassell is clearly enjoying himself as the presumed heavy, but he's not as over-the-top as he has been in other similar roles. Rosario Dawson, on the other hand, easily steals the movie from her testosterone-laced co-stars. She's always easy on the eyes, but her performance as Elizabeth is smoldering, fetching, and (no pun intended) hypnotic in all the right ways. One could argue that Trance is worthwhile for her alone, and that's without her much-publicized, full-frontal nudity. Dawson bares all on numerous occasions and is undeniably sexy, but this isn't gratuitous nudity. There's actually a clever rationale behind her decision to shave down there.
Unless you're David Lynch, most filmmakers who dabble in this genre always give us somewhat of an explanation toward the end, and that indeed happens here. However, the climax of Trance is disappointing. Instead of a mind-blowing "whoa" reaction, viewers are more likely to experience something along the lines of "oh, okay, so that explains it." It makes sense from a logical standpoint, and there's still an ounce of ambiguity left over, but it felt underwhelming to me. There's also another, albeit unintentional, problem. The nature of what transpires during the movie's final 15 minutes reminded me of a movie that's not even the same genre (although it does deal with memory): Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. And that's not a favorable comparison, either, since it only served to remind me how much more effectively Michel Gondry's film dealt with something similar.
I suspect I'm in the minority with Trance. I usually slurp a movie that boasts intelligence and a requirement of viewers to think outside the box, but there has to be an emotional attachment somewhere for the film to be truly successful. Trance is certainly ambitious and awash in color and atmosphere, but when all the pieces come together, the whole feels less than the sum of the parts. It's interesting, but ultimately an interesting failure.
Rating: **1/2 out of ****
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