By Michael P Coleman
In hindsight, as much of the world is embroiled in a pandemic, battling a foe that cannot be seen with the naked eye, I’m not sure that a viewing of The Invisible Man was such a great idea. The feature is a worthy update of the classic horror movies of Hollywood’s golden age, for the #MeToo generation and for those social distancing and self quarantining.
These days, we don’t have to look too far for our monsters.
The Invisible Man has been made available for rental on digital platforms in the wake of movie theatre chains shuttering their doors due to precautions related to the coronavirus pandemic. When I queued it up, I was thinking a late Saturday night viewing of what I thought would be a reboot of the classic 1933 Universal flick (which was based on H.G. Wells’ 1897 novel) would be a fun diversion from the cares of the day.
A few minutes in, with the simple kicking of a metal dog dish across a tile kitchen floor, I knew I was wrong. Painfully, horribly, irrevocably wrong. It was a diversion, all right, but “fun” doesn’t quite tell the story. I sat frozen in my seat for much of the film, and almost had to manually snap my jaw shut as the final credits rolled.
Is the film’s protagonist losing her mind, or has her estranged, abusive husband found a way to return from the grave, and seemingly turn himself invisible, to terrorize her?
Click here for MPC’s full review.
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