Fear X

* * ½ (2½ of 5)

Fear X

Directed by: Nicolas Winding Refn, 2003



No fear

Nicolas Winding Refn is easily the most interesting Danish director around today. While his tracklisting before Fear X included only two movies - the gritty, streetwise and perfectly captured debut Pusher (1996) and the more ambitious and pseudo-melancholic Bleeder (1999) - he'd already worked up a name for himself as the enfant terrible of, if not European, then Danish cinema.

Refn, like Tarantino (a major influence) and many other angry young directors from the 90s, grew up a movie nerd, raised on action b-movies, Hong Kong slambang and drawing inspiration from cult movies rather than mainstream (accepted) classics.

Yet he also belongs to the elite here (where Tarantino is still CEO) as he has a keen understanding of pure movie making, storytelling and creating angles and unique approaches in what has turned into some sort of predictable genre by itself.

Notice how in Pusher the downright rotten character of Frank (intoxicatingly portrayed by Kim Bodnia) gradually gains our sympathy in his many struggles as the movie progresses. And how in Bleeder Refn still keeps you glued despite the raw and sudden turn in events (Bodnia in another amazing performance) that might have seemed simply uncalled for and repulsive in the script.

Fear X is Refns $7 million dollar American (filmed in Canada actually) debut starring John Turturro and the always welcome James Remar (remember 48 Hours?).

What exactly went wrong here is hard to pinpoint. See, Refn not only had everything going for him, he enlisted Stanley Kubrick's famed photographer (The Shining) Larry Smith and wrote the story together with Hubert Selby (Last Exit To Brooklyn) and he got Turturro to star.

It opens like magic. Refn might be an obsessive perfectionist but the visual ripe beauty and subdued enigmatic thriller qualities of the first hour are breathtaking in both their simplicity and perfectionism. Turturro too seems completely at home here, actually displaying an honest apprehension I have longed to see him take on since Redford's Quiz Show.

The story is interesting. Security guard Harry Caine works at a shopping mall but is stunned by grief when his wife is viciously shot and murdered in the underground parking lot. Caine then spends all his spare time insanely going through CCTV security tapes, hoping to spot the identity of the killer.

Refn's patient opening and sleepy but crispy audiotative visuals makes everything seem in slow-motion. Fear X promises to be a truly effective thriller by now. Notice how cars seem to roll rather than drive and how the scenes within the mall are un-hectic and almost drugged. We feel comfortable in Refn's sure hands but also sense a layered unease about to be revealed later on.

Already here - with cops and security guards in furry Parker coats, minimal and loopy dialogue and brooding snow-covered suburdan scenes that melt into each other - many will draw parallels to Fargo (1996), but that can really only be deemed a testament to how defining the Coens benchmark still is and not as valid critisism of Fear X.

No, what is troublesome is how Refn goes absolutely nowhere in the last part of movie. Caine's journey leads him to a hotel that in itself will have you screaming for another Coen gem also starring Turturro (Turturro, hotel, get it?) That is, if you're not already bogged down by the shameless nods to The Shining with the suspiciously dark red colors of the hotel furnishing, the tricky lighting and the substitute violent red-liquid scene.

There's more. Refn even spices things up with David Lynch mannerisms and comments. Caine is on a kamikaze downfall by now, but the subplot (I won't reveal it) of why and who murdered his wife is so blatantly poor that when the hotel bell clerk comments to Caine: "We provide all sorts of entertainment here" - we don't feel that Refn just popped in a cheerful thumbs-up to Lynch's Twin Peaks, but is desperately trying to thicken his sullen gravy of a plot.

It's a shame. Fear X ends as a pretentious and self-conscious mess that started out like a long-lost classic and perfect thriller.

Director Nicolas Refn is a natural - a master of sound and image - with an astute feel for vibe and engaging storytelling, but Fear X is pretentious way beyond its title alone, dumb when it should be smart and edgy for all the wrong reasons.

Psychological thriller about a security guard, Harry, trying to identify who killed his wife and why. The pursuit of justice does of course run closely in parallel with Harry trying to come to terms with the murder of his wife in a shopping mall. His investigations uncover police corruption as well as linking to anti-corruption activities. Harry's obsession with his investigation leave us wondering how much of what he perceives is real and how much is imagined.

The film is also about bereavement, loneliness, fear and obsession, well portrayed by John Turturro as the grieving security guard. An intriguing film that keeps the viewer guessing. However, the story ultimately isn't satisfying and is at times too loose and aimless. Not a brilliant film but a certainly a good film.

"Fear X" is a change of pace and scenery for both Danish director Refn ("Pusher", "Bleeder") and writer Selby Jr. ("Last Exit To Brooklyn", "Requiem For A Dream") who mostly deal with violent urban decay and despair.

A shopping mall security guard, John Turturro, is trying to track down whoever shot his wife in the same mall. A co-worker supplies him with endless surveillance tapes which he watches over and over, while taking photos of blurry 'suspects' of the tapes. Little by little he collects fragments of evidence of the identity of the murderer. But "Fear X" is not a straight forward thriller with a crystal clear conclusion, it's more of a dark unsettling psychological journey of a man in need of healing for his loss.

Snowy Canada is stand-in for Midwestern small town Wisconsin in this independent film (co-produced by Denmark, Britian, and Canada) that has a "Fargo" look to it. The director's two first films was clearly inspired by the works of Scorsese and especially Abel Ferrara, but "Fear X" is less easy to compare to others. There's a conspiracy feel of movies like "Blow Up" and "The Conversation" but some of the surreal images in the end recalls David Lynch and vintage Polanski. The pace is subtle just like John Turturro's awesome lowkey performance which suits the film perfectly because you can totally identify and feel for his character's quest for the truth. Brian Eno's haunting score also fits the movie quite nicely and gives a feeling of genuine dread. Anyone who think all Danish movies are overhyped Dogme experiments shot on video by epileptic camera men are in for a nice surprise. The film is shot in beautiful scope by Kubrick's cinematopgrapher. The always reliable James Remar, whom I loved since "The Warriors", also deserves praise for his small but important role.

"Fear X" received some good reviews at the recent Sundance festival, and will hopefully find a larger audience. Refn still remains the most promising Danish director, in my opinion, because he totally operates outside the Danish trendy mainstream film circles with a genuine love for movies, from classic Italian cinema to hardboiled American crime flicks, which make his vision of filmmaking pretty unique in Denmark and Europe.

Security guard, Harry Caine (Tutorro) lives a life of lonely obsession after his wife's mysterious shooting at the shopping mall where he works. Unsolved by local Wisconsin police, Harry struggles to piece together information salvaged from surveillance video footage. A dream leads him to discover a photo that begins his search for truth in Montana. Like many psychological thrillers it meanders through themes of schizophrenia and police corruption, but doesn't rise to the excellence of the superior 'Spoorloos' by fellow Danish director, George Sluizer. I soon realised that I had no compassion for Caine or held any emotional attachment to either him or his dead wife. I am certainly not condemning Tutorros' acting; indeed the entire cast did a fine job. The plot just had no substance, no story, no soul. I watched narrative suffer through incoherent changes between dreams, visions and reality. No meaning could be made from feeble attempts at lynchian uniqueness. Kubrick collaborative Larry Smith is Fear X's saviour. Through his creations of unnerving environments we wallow in a visual richness without which would leave the film ineffectual. This utterly pretentious film fails to tell us a story worth listening too. Uncompelled I watched, hopeful that Fear X would recover with a remissive ending. The biggest let down of all being we had to fabricate it ourselves.

Fear X proceeds on two levels that are of interest to me. The troubled Harry Caine searches for the killer of his wife but more importantly the reason for her death, the basic thrust of the film therefore is the penetration of a mystery. But at its core it's a film about obsession, about a man meticulously constructing meaning where there may be none, with methodology that may work on strict rationale but to the outside observer comes across as less than sane. I enjoy puzzles and obsessive minds, especially those that approach a task with rigour, so parts of Fear X were fascinating to me, Harry watching security tapes from the mall in which he works security (his wife was killed in the car park), Harry taking photograph screen captures from said tapes and using them for his wall of information (a wall that we never get too much of a look at) bits and pieces like this. The splashes of light upon the mystery are of interest as well, they come as odd and unheralded jolts rather than as part of a traditional unveiling, there's a sense of arbitrariness and lack of control that works rather well. As far as plotting goes this goes left-field even of the realms of gialli where whodunnit set ups were at times almost an irrelevance. Of course, none of this would work without a quality actor to anchor things and the film has John Tuturro as Harry, giving a fine performance. He grips with low key intensity, his face a rarely troubled mask that nonetheless seems to hide deep feeling, a terrific creepily convincing turn. Solid support comes from Stephen McIntyre, a quietly emotive Deborah Kara Unger and particularly noble but conflicted James Remar, buts its Tuturro's show all the way. It could almost be excellent as well, nicely winding its intrigue for just about the entire first two thirds before things start to go wrong. Essentially, everything ends up rather pat, I've read plenty of reviews claiming the end doesn't explain things well enough but really the problem is that the ending is partly too conventional and partly just not that well handled. I won't spoil details, but I craved something a bit more outlandish or oblique in the explanation department and the film switches from lightly sprinkled hallucinatory sequences that work well to a climatic colourful freak out that doesn't. This said, the ending still has nearly as much to appreciate as the rest of the film owing to the performances and particularly cinematography. Moody lighting and hot claustrophobia make for much tension, even if plot-wise things are slipping away. Still, overall I rather enjoyed this one and I suspect it will lend itself nicely to rewatches. Not so good if you don't enjoy using your imagination and require everything spelled out, but worth a watch for fans of the offbeat and low key.