The Invisible Man

After the lukewarm reception, both critically and financially, to The Mummy, Universal’s idea for a Dark Universe based on their horror characters of the past was put on hold before it had even begun. This included The Invisible Man in which Johnny Depp was tipped to star. However, this version of the story was left on the wayside and was picked up by Blumhouse Productions who hired Leigh Whannell to direct and rewrite the story.

Leigh Whannell’s story bares very little similarity to the 1933 film and instead is a modernised take on the subject, incorporating modern and timely themes. The film follows Ceillia Kass (Elizabeth Moss) as she quietly sneaks around a plush and elegant home, daring not to make a sound so that her abuser boyfriend doesn’t wake up. She manages to escape and after two weeks of hiding hears about his death. However, she begins to feel haunted by an invisible entity and, as her boyfriend is a leading optics scientist, she believes that he never died and found a way to become invisible. 

The decision to centre the story on Ceillia rather than the titular villain allows the timely themes to flourish. Pursued relentlessly by an invisiable entity, The Invisible Man is clearly a tale about domestic abuse and the trauma it leaves in its wake. It’s evident from the very start of the film that Ceillia dares not wake her boyfriend as she carefully gets out of bed. At this point, we don’t even know she’s trying to escape (she simply could be getting a drink of water) but we know that her boyfriend waking up would be the worst thing to happen.

Eventually though it does transpire that she is trying to escape. In a 10-minute dialogue free sequence the whole scenario and background is plain to see as the tension is turned up to the max with the use of sound and smart camera techniques. Moss creeps around the apartment, carefully executing her plan of escape without making a sound. It is a stunning opening act and perhaps one the most anxiety inducing opening acts in recent memory. 

Even in his death the spectre of abuse hangs over Ceillia, so much so she is terrified to leave the house and spooked by daily noises such as a jogger running past her home (clear evidence of PTSD). The abuse is not only physical but also psychological as the invisible man begins to make her doubt her own sanity by gaslighting her and making her doubt her own mental state. Many of these moments were inspired by real life stories so that these events feel real and disturbing. The film makes an attempt to add ambiguity to whether there is an invisible man causing this torment, but there is no doubt there is an unseen abuser tormenting Ceillia and driving her friends away.

There are certain leaps in logic to try and fit the narrative and the invisible boyfriend seems more superhuman than just invisible, but you’d have to go in believing in the possibility of this because it allows the themes and narrative to flourish. The final act falls more in thriller territory whilst the subtle first act builds the tension, but Moss’s terrific central performance and Whannell’s fine work behind the camera makes this a rewarding horror that delivers scares and is flushed with thematic riches.