We’re once again dipping into the overstuffed bucket of
Blumhouse Productions releases, and considering Jason has already shown a wide
variance from decent (Black Christmas), excellent (The Invisible Man) to just
plain terrible (Fantasy Island), all in just a few months’ time, I really don’t
know what to expect from this one. Add onto that how this is written and
directed by Jacob Aaron Estes, who we last checked in on with his writing
contributions to the terminally pointless Rings, and how lead actors David
Oyelowo and Storm Reid haven’t had the best of luck in their last handful of
theatrical outings, and this could really go pear-shaped quickly. Well, much to
my eternal surprise and gratitude, this turns out to be a saving throw for all
three of them.
The ostensible plot is pretty standard crime-thriller
territory, with Oyelowo’s Detective Jack on a murder case involving his
brother, sister-in-law and niece. Through its twisty-turny plot progression, we
get inclusions from dirty cops, big-time cover-ups, even a scene where the lead
is asked to turn in his gun and badge. However, to keep things interesting,
there’s a major gimmick in place. See, while Jack is on the hunt for the
murderer(s), he keeps in contact with a witness to the crime. Said witness is
his niece, played by Storm Reid, who basically has to help him solve her own
murder.
No, this film isn’t about time-travel… technically. It’s more of a
Tales From The Crypt situation where Reid’s Ashley in the past (before the
crime) is able to call Jack in the present. This is the kind of plot device
that can go screwy within seconds, given how bottomless plot holes tend to open
up with just about anything involving messing with the space-time continuum.
However, Estes seems to have a real head on his shoulders for this stuff, as
the way it’s explored and utilized here puts even some of the better sci-fi
efforts to shame. Without succumbing to outright exposition, the gimmick is
used not only effectively but in a way that shows remarkable respect for the
audience’s ability to keep up with all of it.
While some of that magic is down to the scripting, making me
think that the rare inspired moments from Rings were all this guy’s idea, the
acting definitely helps with that. Watching this honestly made me hate A Wrinkle In Time even more than I already do, as it’s here where Storm Reid’s
raw acting talent gets a real showcase. Both in the initial ‘what the hell is
going on?’ phase, and the cold, silent realisation of what’s going on and what
could happen, she sells so damn much of it without even saying a word. The
amount of pressure put on her character would be heavy for just about anyone,
let alone a kid, and her being able to sell it this well is astounding to
watch. Same goes for Oyelowo, who only just comes second in overall
effectiveness in how he deals with the succession of realisations concerning
the phone calls from the past.
Then there’s the presentation, where this manages to win
even more points. Ethan Gold’s haunting soundscapes, full of thrumming bass and
ghostly whistling, locks in with the trim pacing and overwhelming atmosphere to
make a solid bedrock for everything that goes down. Ditto for Scott D. Hanson
and Billy Fox in the editing room, whose intercut work during the final act is
genuinely fucking brilliant in how it links together Jack and Ashley’s
respective climaxes.
The result of all this is an admittedly rudimentary crime
yarn, elevated by its unique plot device, the acting, and the visual aesthetic
that occasionally dips into The Butterfly Effect territory in showing the
effects of meddling with the timeline. Even when it goes all-in on the cop
clichés, all the production elements manage to turn cinematic leftovers into a
pretty hearty meal for the eyes and ears. I never thought I’d say this about
anyone involved with Rings, but I wouldn’t mind seeing more of Jacob Aaron
Estes’ work in the future.
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