Issue 15 - September, 2000

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The 11th Hour

The Cell
Hands down, the best horror film of the year.

"Do I make you horny, baby?": Vincent D'Onofrio as Stargher.

In general, there are few things that make serious film critics cringe more than the concept of a music video director making the transition to film. Ignoring such MTV-to-movie success stories as Spike Jonze, David Fincher and Jonathan Demme in favor of Michael Bay, Michael Bay, and Michael Bay, their mantra remains the same: style over substance. No knack for storytelling. Flashy visuals over coherent narrative. Which is why it annoys me so that Tarsem Singh, best known for winning a silver astronaut for R.E.M.'s undeniably cool "Losing My Religion" video, has already caught more of the same for his feature film debut, The Cell. Although this is to be expected: The Cell is so heads above any other horror film released this year -- and pretty much any other film released this year, irrespective of genre -- and so utterly weird in its triumph, that it will undoubtedly be loathed by those who snarl at the sensory overload. But don't be fooled, 11th Hour readers -- this is it. Open your eyes wide and your mind wider, and enjoy one of the most gorgeously unconventional movies ever made.

"If I had your love and I gave you all my trust, would you comfort me?"
"Um...no."

The Cell is a story told almost solely in striking, archetypal images -- there is dialogue, sure, from a great script by Mark Protosevich , but The Cell is pure Tarsem territory. With much of the story set, literally, in the human mind, the movie plays like a dream -- half poignant symbolism, half utter incoherence, all nightmarish, fantastical landscape. It's like watching cinematic Magritte, but thankfully, the plot of the film never gets lost in the sheer visual grandeur. The Cell is not afraid to take chances, and its exploration of horrifying subject matter -- the most evil of men and our ability to, despite our will, feel sympathy for them -- is daring, compelling, and admirable.

And really, really cool-looking, too. Jennifer Lopez stars as Catherine, a child psychologist who, through a futuristic neurological device, is able to literally enter the minds of her subjects. Once inside, she exists somewhat as their fantasy while remaining her sense of autonomy; when attempting to help a coma-stricken child, she appears in a desert landscape dressed in a bizarre white feathered gown of his imagining, but is able to interact with him independently nonetheless. Protosevich and Singh establish this duality early on, and it contributes well to the overall suspense of the film -- not only is the landscape consistently and illogically changing, but the protagonist is constantly having to adapt to a new environment. You never know what will happen next.

Lopez models some of her dream wardrobe in The Cell.

When a serial killer is found unconscious with his victim missing in an unknown location, Catherine enters his mind as well -- and what a mind it is! (See "Gross Out Factor", below.) Vincent D'Onofrio's portrayal of Carl Stargher is up there with Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter and Tony Perkins as Norman Bates -- while his character isn't quite as well drawn, he is just as twisted and scary. The man turns his women into lifeless, human dolls and plays human intestines like a jack-in-the-box, and Singh brings it all in full-on, technicolor glory. What is most striking here is that Singh also makes the character sympathetic -- while the serial killer as abused child plotline has become, through overuse, something of a cliché, it's honest and believable here. And as Catherine encounters Stargher in his many incarnations - wounded child, demonic overlord, lunatic man -- it becomes downright moving. Using religious iconography taken from both Christian and Hindu faiths, Singh makes The Cell a parable of redemption wrapped in a murder mystery.

While the performances in The Cell are great -- Lopez and an older and wiser Vince Vaughn as an FBI agent being particular highlights -- the true star of the film is Singh. He directs like the cinematic lovechild of David Lynch and Dario Argento, but with a passion and eye for imagery all his own. I can't wait to see what this guy does next. After a long bout of brain-dead genre filmmaking, something has finally come along to rival The Matrix and Dark City for pure imaginative appeal. Beautiful, shocking and relentlessly innovative, The Cell is what good genre filmmaking is all about.

DROOL FACTOR: Vince Vaughn is so tall, and that's really attractive. However, fans of his from Swingers will barely recognize the guy -- he's matured, in acting ability, age, and, um, hairline. This is your mother's Vince Vaughn, but even middle-aged, he's pretty fine.

GROSS-OUT FACTOR: Very high. The dreamscape of the film allows for intestines to be looped around a twirling wire, children to mutate into horrible monsters and half-doll, half-human, totally scary-looking women to by flayed about indiscriminately. The real world allows D'Onofrio to hang himself from the ceiling by a series of metal rings and have sex with his dead victim. The squeamish should take note.

STRONG CHICK FACTOR: Again, very high. Lost in the talk over Puffy and her bodacious bod lies the fact that Jennifer Lopez is a terrific actress, and her work in The Cell rivals that in Out of Sight. Catherine is a great character, strong, compassionate, and with the coolest wardrobe in any genre movie ever. If you don't like the character, you'll dig her clothes, and if you want an alternative to Lopez, there's always Marianne Jean-Baptiste, who plays another smart female scientist in the only chick-dominated genre film of the year.

-- Sarah Kendzior

The Cell is now playing.

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