H.G. Wells' science-fiction story of the man who becomes all invisible was first published in 1897 and has had many facelifts and adaptations to this enthralling conception. Many have imitated Mr. Wells' legacy in all manner of saga and concept that have run along this timeline of science-fiction endeavour.
Writer and director of this contemporary adaptation of invisibility is brought to the big-screen by Mr. Leigh Whannell and it is more to the point of, throughout the years, how one justifies its uses and wants. Mr. Whannell has, here, seen to have gone for the psychological abuse and violent domestic perspective, and particularly toward female-dominance through the act of bullying and oppression of self-worth and ego. Could this simply be a case of a metaphorical viewpoint of mental torment seen through the eyes of this wretched soul due to a vain, malevolent man or a more sinister case of jealous lover cum exploitive, mad scientist?
We lay bare the facts that whatever the premise for the torture and madness this is most definitely a tale of both.
Ms. Elisabeth Moss' exemplary and unmitigated portrayal of the abused and Mr. Whannell's rendering of the old classic science-fiction fable here comes Vis-à-vis with the exposé of a chilling and somewhat disturbing insight into the world of paranoia and exploitation. The experience witnessed is wild and tense throughout and with each passing moment the intensity of doubt and reasoning becomes a visual nightmare for both recipient and viewer. Each tell-tale sign playing on the mind of the protagonist; looking but never seeing; present but never being. A downward and inward spiral sets the tone of an antagonist that drives this bitter battle to its central core; control, or simply addressing the element of losing control. A fine paradox of vision with the insight of Director to envisage a cruel world that is more often heard but never seen.
The Invisible Man is a scolding parable of two worlds that collide and intertwine with love & hate. This shrouded rendition shows the scathing contempt of personal space, dignity and respect. It is a train wreck of nerves and bitter sweet retaliation that holds its breath until its final gasp; we are eyewitness to a high-octane and sensational amalgamation of a modern disease via the workings of Mr. Wells' original concept with a stellar performance of its leading lady. This is quite the optical illusion of less-is-more.
Writer and director of this contemporary adaptation of invisibility is brought to the big-screen by Mr. Leigh Whannell and it is more to the point of, throughout the years, how one justifies its uses and wants. Mr. Whannell has, here, seen to have gone for the psychological abuse and violent domestic perspective, and particularly toward female-dominance through the act of bullying and oppression of self-worth and ego. Could this simply be a case of a metaphorical viewpoint of mental torment seen through the eyes of this wretched soul due to a vain, malevolent man or a more sinister case of jealous lover cum exploitive, mad scientist?
We lay bare the facts that whatever the premise for the torture and madness this is most definitely a tale of both.
Ms. Elisabeth Moss' exemplary and unmitigated portrayal of the abused and Mr. Whannell's rendering of the old classic science-fiction fable here comes Vis-à-vis with the exposé of a chilling and somewhat disturbing insight into the world of paranoia and exploitation. The experience witnessed is wild and tense throughout and with each passing moment the intensity of doubt and reasoning becomes a visual nightmare for both recipient and viewer. Each tell-tale sign playing on the mind of the protagonist; looking but never seeing; present but never being. A downward and inward spiral sets the tone of an antagonist that drives this bitter battle to its central core; control, or simply addressing the element of losing control. A fine paradox of vision with the insight of Director to envisage a cruel world that is more often heard but never seen.
The Invisible Man is a scolding parable of two worlds that collide and intertwine with love & hate. This shrouded rendition shows the scathing contempt of personal space, dignity and respect. It is a train wreck of nerves and bitter sweet retaliation that holds its breath until its final gasp; we are eyewitness to a high-octane and sensational amalgamation of a modern disease via the workings of Mr. Wells' original concept with a stellar performance of its leading lady. This is quite the optical illusion of less-is-more.