Christian Bale, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Aitana Sanchez-Gijon Micheal
Ironside and John Sharian
Directed by: Brad Anderson
The Machinist is a beautifully haunting - chillingly stark
- film that places you knee-deep within an oblique nightmarescape,
desguised as a life, one very troubled man is experiencing.
Bale, who lost something like seventy pounds for this leading
role, simply captured this dream state-like character on the brink
it is a power-house under-the-skin performance.
Machinist Trevor Reznik (Christian Bale) hasn't slept
- a wink - in a year. He can barely eat, his clothes are dripping
off his body and his mind may be weakening; Trev's having a tadofva
bad year to say the least.
it seems somebody is out to get him. Trevor's new found
enemy is a maniacal sort of guy that just kind of "showed
up" at his job, and has started giving him the hairy-eyeball.
As if that were not bad enough, someone is also sneaking
into Trev's apartment leaving creepy sticky-pad messages upon
the filthy fridge...
then again, perhaps Trevor, who's a bit of an emaciated cigarette
smoking coffee sluggin' wreck is just delusional, hallucinating,
or worse, a paranoid. After all, no one else seems to see the
notes or has ever met this coworking nemesis
his hooker girlfriend (Jennifer Jason Leigh) is starting to think
Trevor has some mental issues
big dark circling mental issues
that are slowly twisting his brain into a sleep-deprived abyss.
performance by Christian Bale - who is normally a coveted physique
of Grade A mansteak - is doubly menacing with this anything-for-the-craft
Skeletor carcass he's widdled himself down to for the part of
Trevor. I warn you this version of Christian is not easy to look
at. But his remarkably ominous, heart-breaking, performance out
weighs this dramatic physical state. He is literally breath taking.
Machinist moves slowly like a dream you can't run in. Lethargic
frames hint, uncover, and penetrate your thoughts as each of tale's
players adds just a smidge more menace to that uneasy feeling
your sharing with Trevor as he explores the power of the mind.
It's a stylistic journey director Brad Anderson orchestrates from
writer Scott Alan Kosar. Set designer Alain Banne and his crew
have spun a web of radiant minimalist art in a world of solemn
isolation, while Roque Banos' classic-styled Hitchcock-like soundtrack
lends a down right creature-featurey chill to the macabre yarn
Machinist is a wonderfully hellish psychological ride keeps
you gripped to the seat - it dares you to look away - but you
can't. You must know what the h-e-double hockey sticks is going
on. When was the last time a film did that? Right. Enjoy.
a slab-o-cherry pie