The obsession with schizophrenia in literature and film is a modern one, a traditional tale of the supernatural grafted onto a psychology textbook as a way for those with 20th century sensibilities to exorcise their demons.
In terms of broader style and taste, I'd like to see us move on from these tales. Everyone was thrilled by this stuff when Fight Club came out, now it's drifted towards cliché. It's become a cop out ending for more horror movies than I care to count over the past ten years.
In spite of my exhaustion at the move, though, I have to recognize Enemy as a good representative. The latest pairing of director Denis Villeneuve and star Jake Gyllenhaal tells the story of Adam, a university schoolteacher whose life slowly spirals out of control after seeing his exact lookalike in a movie.
Gyllenhaal is on his usual game and is given a wider range to play with as the boring professor Adam and the edgy, motorcycling Anthony. The scene where Anthony practices his acting routine is especially cheeky fun.
Plus! The score is incredible. There's a distinction in movie music between soundtracks (collections of pre-recorded tracks from different artists chosen to match the tone of the movie) and scores (originally composed music designed to flow seamlessly with the movie). While a great soundtrack is always nice"”here's lookin at ya, T Bone Burnet"”it rarely hits the same emotional notes as a score with unique flourishes that repeat through the movie. Rosemary's Baby is a great example of a creepy thriller with erotic elements that was complemented with a great score. Enemy's score, by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, lifted up the movie at several key moments. It's a work of art.
The other thing that sets Enemy apart is its erotic component. Yes, eroticism, the other hallmark of modern art. Breasts and buttocks abound in this flick before a mysterious backdrop of tarantulas. The tarantulas provide an "artistic" justification for this, and it's certainly deliciously creepy. And while this film's discontents are destined to be pegged to a certain time and place, the presence of the spiders lends things a sinister absurdity that tends to be more universal than doppelganger stories that are simple Freudian metaphors.
So here's to Enemy. It's diverting fun and succeeds within the limits of the insanity-fable genre. But here's hoping the next outing is closer to Prisoners.
