madison anderson

Haven’t stopped thinking about this film since I saw it three times in theaters over the weekend. Elizabeth Moss puts up a barn-burner performance as a woman freshly escaped from a relationship defined by violence, sexual assault, emotional manipulation, and psychological warfare. Leigh Whannell’s lingering gaze on empty hallways, unoccupied chairs, and apparently vacant corners of rooms brings a deep chill as the audience imagines the danger Cecelia can feel lurking there, though it’s invisible to the naked eye. I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered the feeling that you’re being watched made into something so palpable for a viewing audience. We’re planted firmly in Cecelia’s shoes and feel her paranoia, her sense that something is very wrong, and her creeping, immense dread. If you go to the movies to be made to feel something, you can’t miss The Invisible Man. My apple watch repeatedly informed me of the physical effect the movie was having on me over those 2 hours, letting me know every time my heart rate was over 120BPM for over ten minutes. The Invisible Man grips you like a tense hand at the back of your neck from the opening credits and never lets go. The sound design in this movie alone makes it worth seeing in theaters for an experience you won’t be able to replicate at home, but that’s just the beginning of the litany of reasons why this one is worth a big screen viewing.