If you ever wanted a reason not to marry a tech-savvy millionaire, The Invisible Man is the film for you. Elisabeth Moss drifts through the dark, clammy scenery, haunted by the memory of the controlling husband she drugs in order to escape from his clutches. She’s a badger drained of fur and color, hiding out in witness protection-like circumstances, PTSD numbness afflicting her cinematic soul.
Sinister shapes shift on a gloomy bedroom wall. She removes her lover’s gun and a prescription bottle of Diazepam; she adjusts security cameras and disables alarms; she’s clearly carefully planned this all out, like an ingenious heist or prison break. Dystopia: have you corroded poor Moss’s life? Or has the house turned against its owner? Have the robot butlers gone insane? All of these theories prove to be false, but with a title like The Invisible Man, anything seems possible–especially when it’s clear it has nothing to do with H.G. Wells’ classic. Or does it?
Moss’s somber, neurotic, and anxious performance really carries this picture to heightened emotional places to which horror pictures rarely proceed. Her unravelling is not only believable: it’s unnerving. “You’re just a jellyfish version of him, without the spine,” Moss says to the brother of her husband who may or may not be invisibly stalking her and ruining her life. It’s the perfect metaphor for this film about shifting alliances, frozen time, broke trust, power struggles, violent voyeurism, deadly control, and sick obsession.
Today is May 8th, 2020, and The Invisible Man is currently streaming on various VOD streaming services.