Locke (2014)
Directed by Steven Knight
Ivan Locke has worked hard to craft a good life for himself. Tonight, that life will collapse around him. On the eve of the biggest challenge of his career, Ivan receives a phone call that sets in motion a series of events that will unravel his family, job, and soul.
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29 films that influenced Locke
What critics say influenced Locke
The effect is that, as in My Dinner with Andre, we are staring at diffuse images but our brains are focused on Locke's conversations, perhaps trying to picture faces, or a football match, or a concrete pour.
Then again, some people might think of something even smaller and more obscure, like Louis Malle’s “My Dinner with Andre,” where the audience becomes enraptured with the fascinating dinner conversation.
Knight's film is one of those cinematic high-wire acts in the vein of "Buried" and "All is Lost" in which a director tries to burnish his storytelling cred by tying one hand behind his back and setting his whole film in one place.
It's the type of concept similar to what Rodrigo Cortes was going for in " Buried ."
Think Castaway with Tom Hanks (2000), Buried with Ryan Reynolds (2010), 127 Hours with James Franco (2010) and last year's Gravity (Sandra Bullock) and All is Lost (Robert Redford).
Dramatic stuff to be sure, though far removed from the sort of nail-biting thriller narrative audiences have come to expect from the man-in-a-confined-space sub-genre (think: Ryan Reynolds in Buried, Colin Farrell in Phone Booth, etc.).
Most man-in-a-can titles wear out their welcome quickly, including “ Phone Booth ,” about a man trapped in you know what, and “ Buried ,” about a far less lucky guy buried alive in a coffin; in “Gravity,” Sandra Bullock switched cans often enough that the movie never felt oppressive.
If you’ve ever seen a Mike Figgis movie (Leaving Las Vegas, One Night Stand, Timecode), you might understand the self-consciously conceptual, stressed masculinity that’s afoot here as mid-tier Figgis.
If you’ve ever seen a Mike Figgis movie (Leaving Las Vegas, One Night Stand, Timecode), you might understand the self-consciously conceptual, stressed masculinity that’s afoot here as mid-tier Figgis.
If you’ve ever seen a Mike Figgis movie (Leaving Las Vegas, One Night Stand, Timecode), you might understand the self-consciously conceptual, stressed masculinity that’s afoot here as mid-tier Figgis.
Dramatic stuff to be sure, though far removed from the sort of nail-biting thriller narrative audiences have come to expect from the man-in-a-confined-space sub-genre (think: Ryan Reynolds in Buried, Colin Farrell in Phone Booth, etc.).
The Eyes of My Mother is roughly analogous to Franjus wonderful Eyes without a Face, in the sense that both affect a non-exploitive art house approach that makes horror stand out in contrast like a bloody carcass tossed onto an intricate silk tablecloth.
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On the technical side, Dickon Hinchliffe's (2010's " Winter's Bone ") moody beat of a score and Haris Zambarloukos' (2014's " Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit ") shady lensing evoke a lonely feeling, but the latter slides into repetition with its limited assortment of shots.
Knight keeps things entirely focused on the car, with the camera mostly on the inside (there are couple of exterior shots, but they never break the mood), and “Thor” DoP Harris Zambarloukos’s Michael Mann-ish photography perfectly captures the sort of long nighttime drive of the soul that many of us could identify with (it’s also paired well with a very strong score by Dickon Hinchcliffe (“Winter’s Bone”).
Writer-director Knight, creates a drama that is entirely internal: this man is not forced to confront his fate, like Duel's Dennis Weaver, in the form of an external agency.
A simple premise that’s unpacked with the patience and poise of a master, Locke is an effective cross between Gravity and Abbas Kiarostami’s Ten.
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It's Shane in Shane, the Seven in The Magnificent Seven.
Most people would think of something along the lines of “Phone Booth,” “Rear Window,” “or “12 Angry Men,” films that thrilled us with their suspenseful plots, making us sit on the edge of our seats in anticipation of what was going to happen next.
Avoiding easy comparisons with the likes of classics Lifeboat, Rope and Rear Window and recent thrillers Cube, Phone Booth and Buried, the filmmaker explores a situation marked by its modesty rather than its gimmick.