The Invasion
Directed by Oliver Hirschbiegel
Nicole Kidman continues her phenomenal streak of preposterously bad art movies with The Invasion, the latest remake of the 1955 Invasion of the Body Snatchers. What once seemed a foolproof concept—people suddenly changing into soulless pods—has now been reduced to yet another exercise in political finger-pointing. When NASA’s Patriot Space Mission fails, bringing to Earth a virus that creates political zombies, it exacerbates tension between society’s conformists and malcontents (implicitly, Red and Blue staters). Kidman plays Washington, D.C., psychiatrist Carol Bennell, who distrusts the government’s insidious plan to inoculate citizens against the space virus. The filmmakers suggest that anyone not paranoid about the Bush administration is inhuman. This makes The Invasion Hollywood’s ugliest exploitation yet of the Iraq war.
Unlike the 1950s Don Siegel film which hyped B-movie dread into commonplace paranoia, or the 1978 Philip Kaufman remake which uncannily captured post-’60s malaise, this film turns Jack Finney’s original short story into a banal pseudo-political allegory. Director Oliver Hirschbiegel, screenwriter David Kajganich and producer Joel Silver unscrupulously use 9/11 fears for shallow political cynicism. But the original concept was about fundamental, existential skepticism—losing consciousness when one goes to sleep and the world going wrong. It was an existential thriller, not really political (despite facile readings of ’50s anti-McCarthy paranoia).
This version follows the craven fear mongering in Children of Men and 28 Weeks Later. Kidman represents the celebrity (George Clooney, Matt Damon) stance of paranoia as the new vainglory—a concept undermined by casting a Stepford Wife actress. Explicit references to Iraq, Darfur and New Orleans countermand the film’s AIDS subtext. (Pod people exchange bodily fluids by vomiting.) Kidman’s smooth-skinned fragility allows quasi-feminist readings as Dr. Bennell fights off rape and misogyny. But an unironic ending ultimately negates the whole concept. The Invasion congratulates political cynicism rather than provoking audiences to think.
Directed by Oliver Hirschbiegel
Nicole Kidman continues her phenomenal streak of preposterously bad art movies with The Invasion, the latest remake of the 1955 Invasion of the Body Snatchers. What once seemed a foolproof concept—people suddenly changing into soulless pods—has now been reduced to yet another exercise in political finger-pointing. When NASA’s Patriot Space Mission fails, bringing to Earth a virus that creates political zombies, it exacerbates tension between society’s conformists and malcontents (implicitly, Red and Blue staters). Kidman plays Washington, D.C., psychiatrist Carol Bennell, who distrusts the government’s insidious plan to inoculate citizens against the space virus. The filmmakers suggest that anyone not paranoid about the Bush administration is inhuman. This makes The Invasion Hollywood’s ugliest exploitation yet of the Iraq war.
Unlike the 1950s Don Siegel film which hyped B-movie dread into commonplace paranoia, or the 1978 Philip Kaufman remake which uncannily captured post-’60s malaise, this film turns Jack Finney’s original short story into a banal pseudo-political allegory. Director Oliver Hirschbiegel, screenwriter David Kajganich and producer Joel Silver unscrupulously use 9/11 fears for shallow political cynicism. But the original concept was about fundamental, existential skepticism—losing consciousness when one goes to sleep and the world going wrong. It was an existential thriller, not really political (despite facile readings of ’50s anti-McCarthy paranoia).
This version follows the craven fear mongering in Children of Men and 28 Weeks Later. Kidman represents the celebrity (George Clooney, Matt Damon) stance of paranoia as the new vainglory—a concept undermined by casting a Stepford Wife actress. Explicit references to Iraq, Darfur and New Orleans countermand the film’s AIDS subtext. (Pod people exchange bodily fluids by vomiting.) Kidman’s smooth-skinned fragility allows quasi-feminist readings as Dr. Bennell fights off rape and misogyny. But an unironic ending ultimately negates the whole concept. The Invasion congratulates political cynicism rather than provoking audiences to think.
