The idea of an evil- but identical twin is not a new one. It's been explored extensively, from Tchaikovsy's Swan Lake to the cult darling Face/Off. But when the visual stylings of Richard Ayoade and Erik Wilson are on one side, the gritty storytelling of Denis Villeneuve on the other, the concept might as well be brand new. Both find themselves in dark Lynch-esque scenarios where the setting is really its own character, and both feature men fascinated with their doppelgangers, but when it comes to aesthetic and plot, they are decidedly different.
The Double, directed by Richard Ayoade and loosely based on Dostoyevsky's philosophical tale, is a complete departure from his previous film Submarine (2010). Where as Submarine was a sweetly reminiscent, left-footed romance set in 1980's Wales, The Double is a surreal black comedy set in a bureaucratic dystopia. Simon James (Jesse Eisenberg) is a shy man, working as a clerk for a government agency that seems reminiscent of something Orwellian. He leads a lonely but stable life until James Simon (Jesse Eisenberg), his double, arrives, upending everything. Though James is Simon's physical double, he excels in every area Simon does not. He easily charms the boss (Wallace Shawn), and his confidence and charisma attract the attention of two women: the boss's daughter (Yasmin Paige), and Hannah (Mia Wasikowska), the girl Simon has been voyeuristically in love with. We might as well establish that yes, Enemy is the better film, but The Double certainly has its merit. Ayoade takes a lot from David Lynch and Brazil-era Gilliam to create the world of his film, but it's not too offensive in this case as it adds to the overall beauty of the piece. I feel more comfortable commending Ayoade for aiming to recreate something as great as Blue Velvet than a film that aims to be the next summer blockbuster. Still, the plot ultimately fails to come together in the end, and the big twists can be seen long before they happen. The dialogue only augments this problem. For some reason the organic dialogue seen in Submarine is gone, replaced by uncannily timed interruptions and bizarre responses. The argument could be made that it was intentionally written that way, for comedic effect, but the result is just a fast-paced mess of dialogue patterns.
As previously stated, The Double is based on a short story by Dostoyevsky, but the feeling of the film is definitely Kafkaesque. There's a certain emphasis on existentialism as Simon, like every Kafka protagonist, tries in vain to avoid the unfortunate circumstances surrounding him. There's also a big change to the original story in the ending. It's always risky to make such a large alteration to your source material, but it pays off here. The original ending involves Simon going past the point of no return with his insanity, seeing hundreds of doppelgangers wherever he goes, and it's a little too obvious to be interesting in a feature-length film. Instead, Ayoade plays with the interesting motif of suicide, giving a subtle nod to Chuck Palahniuk as he does so. Though the resolution doesn't live up to its full potential, it's still an interesting idea made great by the combined themes of existentialism, individuality, and chaos.
The Double wins big points for its visual beauty (stills pictured below), but the execution, which takes a bit too much from the genre's masters, is less than perfect, creating an eerie atmosphere with little to say.
The Double, directed by Richard Ayoade and loosely based on Dostoyevsky's philosophical tale, is a complete departure from his previous film Submarine (2010). Where as Submarine was a sweetly reminiscent, left-footed romance set in 1980's Wales, The Double is a surreal black comedy set in a bureaucratic dystopia. Simon James (Jesse Eisenberg) is a shy man, working as a clerk for a government agency that seems reminiscent of something Orwellian. He leads a lonely but stable life until James Simon (Jesse Eisenberg), his double, arrives, upending everything. Though James is Simon's physical double, he excels in every area Simon does not. He easily charms the boss (Wallace Shawn), and his confidence and charisma attract the attention of two women: the boss's daughter (Yasmin Paige), and Hannah (Mia Wasikowska), the girl Simon has been voyeuristically in love with. We might as well establish that yes, Enemy is the better film, but The Double certainly has its merit. Ayoade takes a lot from David Lynch and Brazil-era Gilliam to create the world of his film, but it's not too offensive in this case as it adds to the overall beauty of the piece. I feel more comfortable commending Ayoade for aiming to recreate something as great as Blue Velvet than a film that aims to be the next summer blockbuster. Still, the plot ultimately fails to come together in the end, and the big twists can be seen long before they happen. The dialogue only augments this problem. For some reason the organic dialogue seen in Submarine is gone, replaced by uncannily timed interruptions and bizarre responses. The argument could be made that it was intentionally written that way, for comedic effect, but the result is just a fast-paced mess of dialogue patterns.
As previously stated, The Double is based on a short story by Dostoyevsky, but the feeling of the film is definitely Kafkaesque. There's a certain emphasis on existentialism as Simon, like every Kafka protagonist, tries in vain to avoid the unfortunate circumstances surrounding him. There's also a big change to the original story in the ending. It's always risky to make such a large alteration to your source material, but it pays off here. The original ending involves Simon going past the point of no return with his insanity, seeing hundreds of doppelgangers wherever he goes, and it's a little too obvious to be interesting in a feature-length film. Instead, Ayoade plays with the interesting motif of suicide, giving a subtle nod to Chuck Palahniuk as he does so. Though the resolution doesn't live up to its full potential, it's still an interesting idea made great by the combined themes of existentialism, individuality, and chaos.
The Double wins big points for its visual beauty (stills pictured below), but the execution, which takes a bit too much from the genre's masters, is less than perfect, creating an eerie atmosphere with little to say.
Enemy is also an adaptation- based on the ironically-named-in-context novel 'The Double' by José Saramago. The story follows quiet history professor Adam Bell (Jake Gyllenhaal) as he discovers his duplicate, a hotheaded actor named Anthony Claire (also Jake Gyllenhaal). Adam becomes obsessed with Anthony's life, calling his house repeatedly and stalking both him and his pregnant wife Helen (Cronenberg muse Sarah Gadon). The two men seem distrustful of each other at first, but they agree to meet up in a hotel room, thus beginning the confusing thrill ride of identity-finding, sexual rivalry, and giant spiders. Anthony, paranoically certain that Adam has slept with his wife, coerces Adam into letting him seduce his girlfriend (Mélanie Laurent). What Anthony fails to realize is that this provides the perfect opportunity for Adam to drop in on Helen, and assume his life. While The Double is filled with fast-talking characters and dialogue-based scenes, Enemy relies more on silence and non-verbal sequences to get its point across. When there is dialogue, it's well written, and on a much more realistic level than that in The Double. Overall, Enemy is closer to real life. The horror, save for that last, terrifying shot, is found in the mundane. The setting is a alien version of Toronto, and the color palette is nearly monochromatic, but still manages to be jarring. Another element that puts it just a notch above The Double is its eerie, strong score. The Double (in Eraserhead fashion) relied mostly on an ambient drone, but Enemy's score, which sometimes uses a similar effect, is anxiety-inducing and a complete knockout.
Of course, the spiders can't be glossed over in any discussion of Enemy. There's been some dispute as to what their significance is in the movie, but the theory I identify with the most is that the spiders represent commitment while the spider webs represent oppression (as discussed in the lectures that Adam gives).The whole movie is centered around a fear of commitment, settling down, and falling into predictable patterns. We start with a man who feels trapped by his job and his girl, but through a series of wild events, we end up with a man who has come to terms with this level of freedom. The last shot of Adam sighing happily isn't denial to the horrifying thing facing him, it's acceptance. But no matter what you think about the spiders, if they represent totalitarian governments or the evil of women, pinning down one interpretation as the one true meaning is detrimental to the movie-watching experience. Cinematic symbols are meant to be somewhat abstract, subjective, able to communicate ideas beyond anything we can put into words. I'm sure the spiders will continue to spark discussion and debate, and that's another point for Villeneuve. Thematic ambiguity is the main divide between Enemy and The Double, and it works well in this case.
Both movies are exciting rides through strange environments that seem half-familiar. Both are well executed, but not perfect. Enemy evidently borrows some of its elements from David Cronenberg, but it manages to be its own film, a surreal production with a complex and deeply disturbed plot.
Of course, the spiders can't be glossed over in any discussion of Enemy. There's been some dispute as to what their significance is in the movie, but the theory I identify with the most is that the spiders represent commitment while the spider webs represent oppression (as discussed in the lectures that Adam gives).The whole movie is centered around a fear of commitment, settling down, and falling into predictable patterns. We start with a man who feels trapped by his job and his girl, but through a series of wild events, we end up with a man who has come to terms with this level of freedom. The last shot of Adam sighing happily isn't denial to the horrifying thing facing him, it's acceptance. But no matter what you think about the spiders, if they represent totalitarian governments or the evil of women, pinning down one interpretation as the one true meaning is detrimental to the movie-watching experience. Cinematic symbols are meant to be somewhat abstract, subjective, able to communicate ideas beyond anything we can put into words. I'm sure the spiders will continue to spark discussion and debate, and that's another point for Villeneuve. Thematic ambiguity is the main divide between Enemy and The Double, and it works well in this case.
Both movies are exciting rides through strange environments that seem half-familiar. Both are well executed, but not perfect. Enemy evidently borrows some of its elements from David Cronenberg, but it manages to be its own film, a surreal production with a complex and deeply disturbed plot.