Based on the plot synopsis (wife-abusing genius finds spookily high-tech way to be even more abusive), I knew I wasn’t likely to be keen on “The Invisible Man” (2020). Some people like scare-me-boo movies, though, and if you’re one of those people, don’t let this review stop you. It appears Elisabeth Moss is striving to resurrect the mantle of America’s Victim once held by Sondra Locke. It was excruciatingly disturbing to spend two hours watching her be watched as the scary-movie, tension-building, plot-twisting to-do list is methodically checked off. For the sake of empowerment, plausibility is bent until it breaks.
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And some people say I’m resistant to change! In “Edmond” (2005), William H. Macy plays a mild-mannered, big-city office worker who finds out his meeting tomorrow has been bumped back. Next thing you know, he’s haggling hookers over sex while becoming a knife-wielding, nonsense-soliloquizing, homicidal maniac. It’s like “Falling Down” fell down. And can’t get up. Because Macy stabbed it. And then talked it to death. The incessantly pretentious chattiness comes courtesy of David Mamet’s play, which he adapted to somehow be even more like a play. Everyone sounds like they’re Capital A Acting, even when they’re committing a felony.
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