This is decidedly perplexing, as is Abbie’s nonchalant reaction to it, and the sight of the incisor on the immaculate, all-white kitchen counter deeply rattles Margaret-perhaps because it’s so bizarre as to disrupt the pristine order of things, or perhaps because it reminds her of a prior incident she’d just as soon keep buried and forgotten. In an initial sign of the mounting disquiet to come, Abbie pretends to pull a giant tooth out of her mouth and then reveals that it’s not actually hers she found it in her wallet’s change pouch. The Star Wars Universe’s Secret Weapon Pulls Back the CurtainĪs further evoked by Jim Williams’ score of severe strings, Margaret is a sharp, self-possessed woman, and that extends to her love for daughter Abbie (Grace Kaufman), who bristles at her mother’s clinginess and, more fundamentally, at the nervous agitation that seems to be simmering just beneath Margaret’s poised exterior. Afterward, Margaret gathers her belongings, wipes a stray hair off her desk, and goes for a run along a city river, her big arm movements and rhythmic breathing exuding the rigorous sense of purpose and forceful concentration that defines her, whether she’s walking through her office corridors or calling her married boyfriend Peter (Michael Esper) to come over for late-night sex. To Margaret, this is a clear case of toxic behavior, since “a sadist never understands why others aren’t enjoying his sadism as much as he is.” Her advice is that Gwyn find someone kinder and more respectful. Written and directed by Andrew Semans, Resurrection-which debuts in theaters on July 29 and on VOD August 5, following its premiere at this year’s Sundance Film Festival-commences with Margaret speaking with a colleague named Gwyn (Angela Wong Carbone) who’s struggling with a boyfriend who cracks jokes at her expense and then makes her feel bad for objecting to her humiliation.
Figuring out what’s going on in this off-kilter thriller is part of its appeal, and thus the source of its real power is the inscrutability of its leading lady, whose plummet off the deep end is at once easy to identify and difficult to decipher. With a surplus of passion, anxiety and instability, Hall crafts a jaw-dropping portrait of the screwy psychological ramifications of trauma, and one that’s all the more beguiling for being so hard to pin down. Few actresses working today are as intensely unpredictable as Rebecca Hall, and she bolsters that reputation with Resurrection, a film that hinges on the increasingly unstable-and then outright unhinged-state of mind of Margaret, a single mother whose world is thrown for a loop due to the reappearance of a figure from her past.
0 kommentar(er)
