Side Effects (2013)
Directed by Steven Soderbergh
A woman turns to prescription medication as a way of handling her anxiety concerning her husband's upcoming release from prison.
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From Soderbergh's head-scratching opening homage to Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby to a plot that, at first, seems to be a cautionary legal tale of big pharma abuses, Side Effects unexpectedly develops into a post modern Hitchcockian thriller... which is actually akin to one of Brian De Palma's chilly psychological puzzles .
He plays games with the color palette and the sound mix; Mara has a spooky, translucent vulnerability that reminded me of Mia Farrow in “Rosemary’s Baby.’’
You’ll also detect echoes of Rosemary’s Baby (questionable psychiatrists involved in Manhattan highrise hijinks) and the 1981 Body Heat (an attractive couple whose passion turns toxic).
The premise is patently yet intriguingly ridiculous—a Manhattan-set psychological thriller that satirizes Big Pharma paranoia, while harking back to such crazy-lady favorites as Rosemary’s Baby and Fatal Attraction.
It’s no coincidence he opens his film with a slow, insinuating zoom into a distant apartment window, like “Rosemary’s Baby” and “Psycho.”
Soderbergh builds terrific tension in these sleepwalking episodes where his heroine seems to flirt with tragedy, recalling those drawn-out daydreams Kim Novak drifts through in Hitchcock’s “Vertigo.”
With its steady pacing and probing, supple camera work (handled by Soderbergh, under his pseudonym Peter Andrews), the film evokes classic psychodramas, from Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo to Roman Polanski’s Repulsion, as well as kinky offshoots such as Fatal Attraction and Basic Instinct.
Emily refers to "Madeleine" (Vertigo, 1958).
It is easy enough to spot Soderbergh’s influences – Vertigo and Les Diaboliques alongside countless B-movie psychological thrillers and Patricia Highsmith novels.
It’s easily his finest – and most commercial – effort since “Oceans 13.” It’s also like nothing he’s ever done before, as he boldly treads into the domain normally reserved for masters of suspense like Hitchcock (think “Vertigo”) and Brian DePalma (“Body Double,” anyone?).
Ignore the opening shot – a direct nod to Hitch’s Psycho - and the first 30 minutes of Side Effects could stand alone as a tender vignette about a woman doomed by her illness, her circumstances, and the ignorance of those entrusted with taking care of her.
“Contagion”), nods early on to Hitchcock’s “Psycho” as the camera settles randomly on Emily’s apartment window.
Playing with perception and opening with a shot lifted straight out of Psycho, Soderbergh makes his intention to play Hitch an obvious aspect of Side Effects‘ mystique.
Later on, around the 45-minute mark, a major character will get diced and spliced by a kitchen knife, as Janet Leigh was in Psycho.
But upon his release, something doesn’t feel quite right between them -- and, quite out of the blue at the 35-minute mark, one of the main characters does a Janet Leigh in Psycho and gets the blade.
Soderbergh wants to do for SSRIs what Hitchcock did for psychoanalysis in Spellbound, and for a while he does.
Sworn to the reviewer’s oath of not revealing too much about a mystery film, yet wanting to drop a few hints to the kinoscenti, I’ll just add that Side Effects summons references to other Hitchcocks — Spellbound, The Wrong Man, Vertigo, Marnie — and such Hitchcock-tribute films as Obsession, Dressed to Kill, Raising Cain and Passion made by the director’s No. 1 fan, Brian De Palma.
Her long, lifeless locks obscure her face in a manner similar to Samara from The Ring; a visual touch that keeps us wondering whether she’s a femme fatale or a damaged little girl.
When Hitch used drabness, as in Frenzy (1972), it had clarity.
You almost get the feeling the whole movie is fundamentally insincere and enclosed with quotation marks, as if Burns and Soderbergh sat around watching and rewatching “Fatal Attraction” and “Basic Instinct” (and “Vertigo” and “The Man Who Knew Too Much”) and deciding what to pilfer.
(Echoes of Rear Window and Vertigo ring loudly.)
With its steady pacing and probing, supple camera work (handled by Soderbergh, under his pseudonym Peter Andrews), the film evokes classic psychodramas, from Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo to Roman Polanski’s Repulsion, as well as kinky offshoots such as Fatal Attraction and Basic Instinct.
The premise is patently yet intriguingly ridiculous—a Manhattan-set psychological thriller that satirizes Big Pharma paranoia, while harking back to such crazy-lady favorites as Rosemary’s Baby and Fatal Attraction.
This last one, Side Effects, looks like an homage to the '80s heyday of the twisty psychological thriller—Fatal Attraction, Jagged Edge, and Dead Calm—and to a large extent, it plays out as exactly that.
A doozy of a Hitchcockian thriller with Jude Law, Rooney Mara and Catherine Zeta-Jones, “Effects” is a go-for-broke valentine to ’80s cinematic psychological potboilers such as “Jagged Edge” and “Fatal Attraction.”
It’s telling that Soderbergh watched Fatal Attraction “a lot” while preparing to shoot Side Effects (screenwriter Scott Z. Burns was probably busy studying Basic Instinct).
"Side Effects" takes a page from the "Fatal Attraction" school of late eighties/early nineties erotic thrillers, chucking it onto a contemporary hook: the pratfalls of the pharmaceutical industry.
With her long dark hair pulled back and thick-rimmed glasses, Zeta-Jones may be channeling Jeanne Tripplehorn’s Dr. Beth Garner in “Basic Instinct.”
With its steady pacing and probing, supple camera work (handled by Soderbergh, under his pseudonym Peter Andrews), the film evokes classic psychodramas, from Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo to Roman Polanski’s Repulsion, as well as kinky offshoots such as Fatal Attraction and Basic Instinct.
Catherine Zeta-Jones appears as another psychiatrist who's only looking out for herself (in more ways than one) and -- considering how things play out -- easily could have been lifted straight from an old Joe "Basic Instinct" Eszterhas plot, while Channing Tatum plays the patient's husband who isn't in the film that much, what with being in prison and such.
It’s telling that Soderbergh watched Fatal Attraction “a lot” while preparing to shoot Side Effects (screenwriter Scott Z. Burns was probably busy studying Basic Instinct).
Douglas could be just as famous making the same post–Wall Street movies: Fatal Attraction, The War of the Roses, Basic Instinct, Falling Down, Disclosure, The Game, A Perfect Murder, Traffic.
HH½ Director/editor/cinematographer Steven Soderbergh's alleged final theatrical film is as smart and stylish as one would expect, but like his other recent artsy genre essays — "Haywire," "Contagion" — its duller than its sources (in this case, "Bigger Than Life," "Basic Instinct" and "Psycho").
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You’ll also detect echoes of Rosemary’s Baby (questionable psychiatrists involved in Manhattan highrise hijinks) and the 1981 Body Heat (an attractive couple whose passion turns toxic).
That world is only a savvy backdrop for what screenwriter Scott Z. Burns has accurately characterized as a twisty adult thriller in the vein of "Double Indemnity" or "Body Heat."
See it by all means — especially if you love “Body Heat” and “The Usual Suspects” — but be careful who you trust.
This last one, Side Effects, looks like an homage to the '80s heyday of the twisty psychological thriller—Fatal Attraction, Jagged Edge, and Dead Calm—and to a large extent, it plays out as exactly that.
A doozy of a Hitchcockian thriller with Jude Law, Rooney Mara and Catherine Zeta-Jones, “Effects” is a go-for-broke valentine to ’80s cinematic psychological potboilers such as “Jagged Edge” and “Fatal Attraction.”
The result suggests Jagged Edge retold in the measured voice of the New Yorker.
The movie’s fundamentally “beach read” nature (promotional interviews with the filmmaker have pinpointed such influences as Fatal Attraction and Jagged Edge) means it’s not a summation — it’s a one-off.
Steven Soderbergh’s Side Effects is a grippingly “Hitchcockian” movie, but not in the manner of, say, Brian De Palma, who blithely appropriated the master’s narrative elements and visual techniques for ’80s films like Dressed to Kill and Body Double.
Steven Soderbergh’s Side Effects is a grippingly “Hitchcockian” movie, but not in the manner of, say, Brian De Palma, who blithely appropriated the master’s narrative elements and visual techniques for ’80s films like Dressed to Kill and Body Double.
It’s easily his finest – and most commercial – effort since “Oceans 13.” It’s also like nothing he’s ever done before, as he boldly treads into the domain normally reserved for masters of suspense like Hitchcock (think “Vertigo”) and Brian DePalma (“Body Double,” anyone?).
And here at last—a little later than would be ideal—is a '70s De Palma murder, and then the wee brunette with the dry-crackle voice sinks into a drugged-out, wrongly accused plot recalling that Steven Soderbergh thing you saw on TCM last week, Side Effects, the one that ground that other girl with the dragon tattoo through something like the same pharmaceutical Hitchcockisms.
Burns, by the way, wrote the screenplay for Contagion, also directed by Soderbergh.
What I can say about “Side Effects” is that writer Scott Z. Burns and director Steven Soderbergh (who previously collaborated on “Contagion” and “The Informant!”)
Working once more with screenwriter Scott Z. Burns (“Contagion,” “The Informant!”), the director sets up a dramatic situation whose suspense radiates out in many directions.
Without going into too much detail, it's as though Burns took all the melodramatic plot developments he smartly left out of his screenplay for "Contagion" (another film with a dim view of the pharmaceutical industry) and stuffed them into "Side Effects" instead.
Bad things occur, and Soderbergh and his screenwriter, Scott Z. Burns (he wrote Contagion for the director), lead us to certain conclusions about Emily, Dr. Banks, Emily's previous shrink Dr. Victoria Siebert (Catherine Zeta-Jones), compromised physicians in general, predatory big-pharma money, the role of prescription medications in contemporary society, and so on.
Having recently tackled a tale about a mass population wipe-out in "Contagion," director Steven Soderbergh now continues down the cautionary trail with this effort that was penned by Scott Z. Burns.
(There are echoes, too, of Soderbergh's early effort The Underneath.)
It's too bad Soderbergh is "going out" on a film that's most reminiscent of forgettable early career hiccup "The Underneath."
Out of Sight and Traffic contained a wide variety of film stocks and filters, while The Limey and The Underneath played around with time.
In his last theatrical feature before his planned retirement, Soderbergh plants uncanny echoes of his first, sex, lies, and videotape, by putting his protagonist on the therapist’s couch, where she tries to sort through the disappointment, betrayal, and general ennui that’s gripped her life.
And for a while there, the film undeniably does feel like a carbon copy of Ocean's Eleven - complete with introductory sequences for each of the characters.
Remember, even in the “Ocean’s Eleven” movies, he was too smart to let that happen.
Soderbergh's pictures as director range from the openly commercial Ocean's Eleven to the experimental Schizopolis ; from a two-part biography of Che Guevara and a remake of Tarkovsky's sci-fi classic Solaris to the best adaptation of an Elmore Leonard thriller, Out of Sight , and the true-life social conscience drama Erin Brockovich , in which Julia Roberts won an Oscar.
In it, we see shades of his different guises from the past twenty years: the artful Hollywood hack (Ocean’s Eleven), the thoughtful thrill-seeker (Out of Sight; Contagion), the man with a message (Traffic; Erin Brockovich), the mad scientist (Schizopolis; Bubble) and the buck-nasty provocateur (sex, lies, and videotape; Magic Mike).
The Oscar-winning director of “Traffic” — as well as “Sex, Lies and Videotape,” “Out of Sight,” “Erin Brockovich” and “Ocean’s Eleven” — has said this is his last film.
And few directors in recent history can match Soderbergh's astonishing consecutive run of "Out of Sight," "The Limey," "Brockovich," "Traffic" and "Ocean's" (released in a period of just four years!).
Director Steven Soderbergh's refusal to be pigeonholed continues here, as the director infuses the proceedings with a vibrant, almost peppy sense of style that's essentially the antithesis of his work on The Limey.
His audio commentaries were chatty and self-deprecating; he invited his screenwriters to share the microphone, lest he take too much of the credit, even when said screenwriters disagreed with his interpretation of their work (his commentary for 1999’s wonderful The Limey, with a testy Lem Dobbs, is utterly riveting).
And few directors in recent history can match Soderbergh's astonishing consecutive run of "Out of Sight," "The Limey," "Brockovich," "Traffic" and "Ocean's" (released in a period of just four years!).
Soderbergh has directed more than two dozen movies in as many years (and almost as many genres), from Sex, Lies and Videotape to the Ocean's movies, from Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience to Erin Brockovich and Traffic, from Che to Solaris to (my own favorite) Out of Sight.
Soderbergh's pictures as director range from the openly commercial Ocean's Eleven to the experimental Schizopolis ; from a two-part biography of Che Guevara and a remake of Tarkovsky's sci-fi classic Solaris to the best adaptation of an Elmore Leonard thriller, Out of Sight , and the true-life social conscience drama Erin Brockovich , in which Julia Roberts won an Oscar.
But, as successes like "Erin Brockovich," "Out of Sight" and his new film, "Side Effects," demonstrate, when Soderbergh is willing to play it on the square, he's as good as anyone at bringing intelligence and verve to straight-ahead material.
The Oscar-winning director of “Traffic” — as well as “Sex, Lies and Videotape,” “Out of Sight,” “Erin Brockovich” and “Ocean’s Eleven” — has said this is his last film.
He was never much moved by outcomes anyway — throughout his filmography, from the heists of the Ocean’s movies to the revolutions of Che to the doll assemblage of Bubble, he’s had a singular interest in process, in how things are done, mirrored by his transparency and demystification of his own efforts behind the camera.
Soderbergh has directed more than two dozen movies in as many years (and almost as many genres), from Sex, Lies and Videotape to the Ocean's movies, from Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience to Erin Brockovich and Traffic, from Che to Solaris to (my own favorite) Out of Sight.
A man of many, varied interests, he had just made "Bubble" (the super-low-budget murder mystery shot partly in Ohio), was in between "Ocean's Twelve" and "Ocean's Thirteen" and was about to embark on the massive Che Guevara two-part biopic with Benicio Del Toro.
I don’t think I’d rank it as one of the best movies in a career that frequently has balanced entertainment with social significance (Erin Brockovich and The Informant) and that has seen the director employ a dazzling variety of approaches in movies such as Kafka (1991), King of the Hill (1993), Schizopolis (1996) and Bubble (2005).
But ever since he followed the big budget sequel "Ocean's Twelve" with the intriguing micro-indie "Bubble," Soderbergh has been retreating more and more inside his own head, and his work -- while remaining intellectually engaged and technically precise -- has become colder and more alienating.
It’s him in the jazzier, muffled, experimental mode of Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience and Haywire.
Soderbergh, who was Oscar-nominated for best director twice in the same year, for "Traffic" and "Erin Brockovich" (winning for the latter) has been prolific, always bringing a sharp eye and energetic creativity to his projects, ever since his game-changing "sex, lies and videotape" in 1989.
The result is a severe let-down, particularly considering the director behind it, Steven Soderbergh, a filmmaker who has given way to whimsy (the Oceans Eleven franchise) and, worse, self indulgence ( Solaris, The Girlfriend Experience ) since winning his own Oscar for Traffic and one for Julia Roberts for Erin Brockovich in 2000.
Soderbergh has directed more than two dozen movies in as many years (and almost as many genres), from Sex, Lies and Videotape to the Ocean's movies, from Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience to Erin Brockovich and Traffic, from Che to Solaris to (my own favorite) Out of Sight.
Soderbergh's pictures as director range from the openly commercial Ocean's Eleven to the experimental Schizopolis ; from a two-part biography of Che Guevara and a remake of Tarkovsky's sci-fi classic Solaris to the best adaptation of an Elmore Leonard thriller, Out of Sight , and the true-life social conscience drama Erin Brockovich , in which Julia Roberts won an Oscar.
But, as successes like "Erin Brockovich," "Out of Sight" and his new film, "Side Effects," demonstrate, when Soderbergh is willing to play it on the square, he's as good as anyone at bringing intelligence and verve to straight-ahead material.
Soderbergh, who was Oscar-nominated for best director twice in the same year, for "Traffic" and "Erin Brockovich" (winning for the latter) has been prolific, always bringing a sharp eye and energetic creativity to his projects, ever since his game-changing "sex, lies and videotape" in 1989.
In “Side Effects,” purported to be the penultimate film of auteur Steven Soderbergh (“Traffic,” “Magic Mike”), Rooney Mara (“The Social Network,” the Americanized “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”) plays the depressed half of a young New York City married couple.
Side Effects is directed by Steven Soderbergh, and for a while I thought this was going to be a minor variation on his exhaustive Traffic .
The result is a severe let-down, particularly considering the director behind it, Steven Soderbergh, a filmmaker who has given way to whimsy (the Oceans Eleven franchise) and, worse, self indulgence ( Solaris, The Girlfriend Experience ) since winning his own Oscar for Traffic and one for Julia Roberts for Erin Brockovich in 2000.
Soderbergh has directed more than two dozen movies in as many years (and almost as many genres), from Sex, Lies and Videotape to the Ocean's movies, from Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience to Erin Brockovich and Traffic, from Che to Solaris to (my own favorite) Out of Sight.
I don’t think I’d rank it as one of the best movies in a career that frequently has balanced entertainment with social significance (Erin Brockovich and The Informant) and that has seen the director employ a dazzling variety of approaches in movies such as Kafka (1991), King of the Hill (1993), Schizopolis (1996) and Bubble (2005).
Even ardent and undemanding Soderbergh fans who defend experimental jokes like the catatonic Kafka and the demented Bubble will have a hard time explaining this one.
Soderbergh's pictures as director range from the openly commercial Ocean's Eleven to the experimental Schizopolis ; from a two-part biography of Che Guevara and a remake of Tarkovsky's sci-fi classic Solaris to the best adaptation of an Elmore Leonard thriller, Out of Sight , and the true-life social conscience drama Erin Brockovich , in which Julia Roberts won an Oscar.
His persistent ennui has led him to all manner of narrative experiments, benighted projects like "Schizopolis" and "The Good German" that were doubtless more involving for him to make than for audiences to experience.
I don’t think I’d rank it as one of the best movies in a career that frequently has balanced entertainment with social significance (Erin Brockovich and The Informant) and that has seen the director employ a dazzling variety of approaches in movies such as Kafka (1991), King of the Hill (1993), Schizopolis (1996) and Bubble (2005).
This is his weakest narrative feature since "Ocean's Thirteen," but more subdued where that movie was emptily spectacular.
A man of many, varied interests, he had just made "Bubble" (the super-low-budget murder mystery shot partly in Ohio), was in between "Ocean's Twelve" and "Ocean's Thirteen" and was about to embark on the massive Che Guevara two-part biopic with Benicio Del Toro.
I haven’t enjoyed all of his films – “Ocean’s Thirteen” immediately comes to mind – and some I simply haven’t seen.
The movie that’s always seemed to embody Soderbergh’s ambivalence was Full Frontal, his gag from 2002 on the absurdities of the film industry.
From Solaris, the science-fiction bore so brain-damaged it’s an unintentional comedy, to a smarmy mess called Full Frontal, concocted from rag-bin remnants, and a dozen debacles in between, he’s a master of what I call “viewer indifference.”
Now, with Full Frontal, Soderbergh has essentially gone full circle and made his artiest flick yet.
It's ripe material for Soderbergh , whose films often explore how things and ideas take on the value of currency, be it sex ("Magic Mike"), success ("Full Frontal") or even health ("Contagion").
Soderbergh has directed more than two dozen movies in as many years (and almost as many genres), from Sex, Lies and Videotape to the Ocean's movies, from Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience to Erin Brockovich and Traffic, from Che to Solaris to (my own favorite) Out of Sight.
Soderbergh's pictures as director range from the openly commercial Ocean's Eleven to the experimental Schizopolis ; from a two-part biography of Che Guevara and a remake of Tarkovsky's sci-fi classic Solaris to the best adaptation of an Elmore Leonard thriller, Out of Sight , and the true-life social conscience drama Erin Brockovich , in which Julia Roberts won an Oscar.
Thus, Soderbergh over the years has done the very profitable Ocean’s films to build a trust that will let him make the two-part Che , Traffic, and Solaris .
From Solaris, the science-fiction bore so brain-damaged it’s an unintentional comedy, to a smarmy mess called Full Frontal, concocted from rag-bin remnants, and a dozen debacles in between, he’s a master of what I call “viewer indifference.”
His persistent ennui has led him to all manner of narrative experiments, benighted projects like "Schizopolis" and "The Good German" that were doubtless more involving for him to make than for audiences to experience.
Soderbergh has directed more than two dozen movies in as many years (and almost as many genres), from Sex, Lies and Videotape to the Ocean's movies, from Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience to Erin Brockovich and Traffic, from Che to Solaris to (my own favorite) Out of Sight.
Indie dramas ("sex, lies and videotape," "The Girlfriend Experience"), Hollywood entertainments ("Contagion," the "Ocean's" films), character studies ("The Informant!"
If so, he’s done worse – “The Girlfriend Experience” and “ Contagion ,” for example – but he’s also done better.
The engine that drives "Side Effects" toward something bigger and better than the folly of an easy fix is Soderbergh's ("Sex, Lies and Videotape," "The Girlfriend Experience") long-time fascination with the line between interiors and exteriors, both geographical and physical.
It’s him in the jazzier, muffled, experimental mode of Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience and Haywire.
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The movie has a cold, foreboding air not unlike the one Philip Kaufman supplied for his 1978 version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
What started as a cautionary thriller about drug abuse (a topic already investigated to the hilt in a vastly superior movie, Bigger Than Life, with James Mason) now turns into a battle between two psychiatrists for the soul of their patient—one who keeps her medicated, the other who turns out to be her lesbian lover.
HH½ Director/editor/cinematographer Steven Soderbergh's alleged final theatrical film is as smart and stylish as one would expect, but like his other recent artsy genre essays — "Haywire," "Contagion" — its duller than its sources (in this case, "Bigger Than Life," "Basic Instinct" and "Psycho").