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The Resident is an enjoyable film. I want to get that out there before my opinion appears muddled by the impending barrage of conflicting points I'm about to make. More than just enjoyable, there are downright refreshing moments -- among them: a whip-smart heroine, deliciously compelling sound effects and twangs to the heartstrings every now and then which soothed the gaps that might otherwise have derailed The Resident train.
... and it's a Hammer film. And it bears Christopher Lee (following a 34 year absence from the Hammer franchise). If I were a Hammer aficionado, those tidbits would mean considerably more. Still, I like the idea of Lee and Hammer -- romantic, in its way -- and I especially liked how subtly weaved Lee's character appears in The Resident. No pun intended, but I anticipated Lee's presence would be hammered in for the good press it might provide on the geek boards. It wasn't. Kudos to Hammer for keeping it in their pants on that one.
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Hillary Swank portrays Juliet, an ER doctor on a quest for a homey apartment in New York. Recently jilted, the Murphy beds in postage stamp-sized apartments and ever-increasing obsessive texts from her ex (Lee Pace) serve only to sink her heart further. When Lady Luck, in the visage of a comely landlord named Max (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), offers her a gorgeous flat for peanuts (only $3,800/month! What the... wooo... Northern Michigan is so far removed from New York City, I almost feel Canadian) she grabs on with both hands. |
If you're a lucky sort of person who has not happened across anything mentioning The Resident, hithertonow, please stop reading. Go watch the film -- but don't look at the DVD cover! Don't look at stills, or IMDB! Clearly, writer/director Antti Jokinen spent thirty minutes of film time crafting a worthwhile who-done-it which morphs into a front row seat to both a woman's horror and a man's unflinching meltdown, only to have stills and a DVD cover piss all over his vision.
So, I'm torn. I abhor spoilers... and yet... is it a spoiler if the world already knows? Also, is there a means of reviewing what aspects I'd like to review, without spoiling? Not really. So... if you don't already have an idea of what goes on in The Resident, stop reading.
What I Would Like to Say of the Rest:
A single woman alone in the world can sometimes be a precarious position to be in. The shadows and creaks of Juliet's newfound apartment are black dots skirting the edge of her vision of home. As she grows increasingly certain someone is present, that someone is growing increasingly frayed. Jealous ex? Unsettling old man? Juliet isn't nearly as alone as she would like to believe...
What the DVD Cover, Press & Posters Have Crammed Down Our Throats of the Rest:
Dude! Jeffrey Dean Morgan doesn't just star -- he's barking mad, this time around.
The first 28 minutes are a leisurely paced introduction to Juliet, as the story follows her from hotel living to moving her sparse belongings into the new place. Max seems to be the right guy, meeting the right girl, at the right time. He's led a bit of a hermetic life, tending to his family's building and now, his grandfather. As his grandfather's health fades further, Max might finally be able to spread his wings. Immediately likable, he and Juliet seem to gel, from the getgo.
Then, director Jokinen does something gorgeous -- he stops, rewinds, and retells.
Masterful!
... only... we already knew what was going on. This marvelous effect is SO RUINED by the spoilers, that I actually rewatched the first twenty-eight minutes of the film, just to be certain he didn't trip up. My ruling? He didn't. At no point in the first twenty-eight minutes, is there direct evidence of Max stalking. More than that, the evidence against such a line of thought is weighted enough that the rewind would be a deep shock, as opposed to the slight tremors remaining even after being hyperaware of the plot.
This is especially a travesty, considering perhaps my most salient point in all of this ranting: Jeffrey Dean Morgan should *not* have worked in this role. Yet... he did. More than, actually. Morgan turned in a captivation rare enough I cannot recall the last time I was so impressed with an actor. As any Grey's Anatomy viewer with breasts will tell you, I wouldn't mind being stalked by Jeffrey Dean Morgan about as much as I wouldn't mind being haunted by him. On a train, in the rain. As Max, he's every bit as becoming as Denny Duquette was in Grey's. Sweet, humble -- but with that chaser of cocky that does women in. When the pendulum begins to swing the other way, Max becomes first, heartbreaking, and eventually, downright scary.
| Morgan doesn't smack of a Norman Bates interpretation, flailing between sanity and psychotica. When Max horrifies, he does so because the whole is always embodied. Max spies upon Juliet, secretly a knave to a goddess. The screws begin to turn (and we hear them -- screws in wood, gears in clocks, ticking, clicking, cranking -- beautifully laced over the music), and his puppy eyes waver from the tension building behind the dam. |
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Once it bursts, we know why, and we know there aren't enough sandbags in the world to stymie the flood. Maybe being stalked by Jeffrey Dean Morgan wouldn't come to an enjoyable end.
Jeffrey Dean Morgan never does a bad job -- but, thus far, most of his roles have seemed breathy, never seeming to be a far cry from whoever he actually is. Sometimes, that works for him (see: The Losers), sometimes... not so much (The Accidental Husband). He is exceedingly good looking coupled with triple dips at the charm bank. So when he finds himself in the role of a man who just plumb doesn't realize what a catch he is... it's a bit hard to swallow. Good thing he's an actor, otherwise, his lips might never be able to experience phrases such as, "I was just surprised that you wanted to kiss me." In no universe could he not know. Max seemed to be taking this route -- but the story was quick to support his history. Vital to the story, was the fact Max was just as serendipitous a find as the apartment. Though it is never stated outright, I would interpret some of his breakdown as originating in that very thought -- he was acutely aware of his worth, even if he'd never had the opportunity to fully act upon it.
Lee Pace, however, isn't given much time to shine. Cast as a counterbalance, he's handsome and kind enough to be an obvious choice for Juliet's affections... but I do hope Pace is provided more meaty roles in the near future.
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Hillary Swank has a way of blindsiding the audience. There's a natural, yet smart, progression to Juliet. She's well-written, and well played. Finding a new footing in her life, Juliet is careful not to be too rash, yet mans the reins well once action is called for. There's a rollicking lesson to be had for male viewers: If you ever want to stalk, stalk some dimwitted, hoochie mama -- and give the ER docs a wide berth. |
Portraying a victim of stalking translated to being stalked by cameramen. Every inch of Swank is poured over -- fingertips, toes, neck, unmentionables -- even if she hadn't given us a Swank Level investment, I'd still give her kudos for letting the cameras up into every pore.
In spite of all of this, however, the script manages only to take us on a mesmerizing journey... failing to arrive at a new locale. Juliet, even when masturbating, is forever on her best behavior when alone. If someone were stalking me, gosh, they'd probably be horrified beyond repair long before any mayhem came to fruition. No hot-cocoa-stained pajama shirts, no hour long chats with herself, no making up songs about dirty dishes...
Writer/Director Antti Jokinen has an admirable eye for details (Max is often barefoot - lending to his ease of movement) and atmosphere. He's created a ensnaring tale, and that twenty-eight minute build-up was grand... but who-done-it-threads left unrealized, and bearing an obvious endgame, we are left with an interesting and well-crafted film about a guy who stalks a chick, who finds out, and sets off a cat-and-mouse romp through a hell house (or apartment building, as it were).
I would have liked the end to have been surprising. As presented, the ending is well done. The violence is jarringly violent, and the assailant is not without the viewer's sympathy, in spite of the suddenly shocking depth of his transgressions. Yet, considering the chops of Swank and Morgan, it seems an incredible disservice the ending *wasn't* surprising. Why pound gold into a form, only to set it on a shelf?
All in all, an unsettling, stalker romp. Could have had a more inspired endgame strategy, but Swank, and especially Morgan's descent into madness, are more than worth the click to Netflix.
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