Is there a scarier name than Jekyll [Island], especially for gold standard
advocates? Are you with me, monetary economists? Robert Louis Stevenson’s Doctor
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and its various films adaptations are also pretty frightening.
The old classic Hammer made a gender-bender-ish version in 1971 with Dr.
Jekyll and Sister Hyde. That tradition continues in the first film from the
latest corporate relaunch of the venerable British horror studio, Joe
Stephenson’s Doctor Jekyll, which opens today in theaters and on-demand.
Dr.
Nina Jekyll is a brilliant research scientist, just like her beloved
grandfather, Henry (fittingly portrayed in a flashback by actor Jonathan Hyde).
That is right, this is technically a sequel or a re-quel, which is cool. Ordinarily,
Dr. Jekyll’s solicitor and confidant Sandra Poole would never allow an ex-con
former drug addict like Rob Stevenson (can you guess his middle name?) apply
for the position of Jekyll’s live-in care-giver, but somehow his application
slipped through the cracks and the good doctor takes a shine to him. Poole is
quite adamant about Jekyll taking her meds precisely according to schedule, but
the ominous significance is initially lost on Stevenson.
Suddenly,
Poole stops coming around, but Jekyll assures him everything is fine, so don’t
worry. Nevertheless, Stevenson grows increasingly alarmed when Jekyll’s
behavior exhibits marked signs of schizophrenia. On the other hand, he also
feels pressure to stay and make the best of things, for the sake of his cancer-stricken
daughter Stevenson has not yet been allowed to meet.
New
Hammer’s new Doctor Jekyll has been billed as a transexual Jekyll and
Hyde, but Dan Kelly-Mulhern’s screenplay so subtly establishes Nina Jekyll’s
status as such, it will be lost on many viewers. However, the casting of Eddie Suzy
Izzard arguably speaks directly to the point. In the past, Izzard has wisely counseled
everyone to just chill out with respect to pronouns, recognizing both he and
she are understandable in her case, especially when since she still plays roles
of either gender, but in this case, she is indeed a she.
Regardless,
Izzard is suitably creepy as both Nina and “Rachel.” She is suitably flamboyant
for a modern-day gothic monster, but regardless of identification, she also
still has sufficient size to tower over a skinny recovering junkie, like
Stevenson. Frankly, this film probably would not work as well had someone else
been cast. (That is not to say Martine Beswick was not convincingly lethal as “Sister
Hyde.” She just represented a different, femme fatale kind of danger.)
When money gets tight for a widow, she should be happy to have one less mouth
to feed, especially since her daughter Betsey isn’t losing any weight. Of
course, moms just worry. Betsey’s creepy apocalyptic talk certainly does not
help. She seems to think her total lack of appetite is connected to some sort
of spiritual end times in Ruth Paxton’s A Banquet, which opens Friday in
New York.
After
her husband’s long illness and tragic suicide, Holly is now a widow, who solely
concentrates on her two daughters. They live in a striking modernist home, but Holly’s
finances are rather precarious. Presumably, her eldest Betsey, has contracted
some sort of virus at an inopportune time, but it is unclear what sort of
specialist she needs.
The
teenager cannot bear to ingest a morsel of food. Yet, she precisely maintains her
weight day after day. Her weird talk about a spiritual awakening suggests a
need for psychological treatment, but her tough-love grandmother June initially
assumes she just needs a kick in the butt. However, the persistence of her
condition and her distant manner unnerves her entire family.
Essentially,
Paxton and screenwriter Justin Bull combine elements of body horror with a dark
vision of some undefined manifestation of spirituality. In some ways, A
Banquet shares a kinship with Bruno Dumont’s Hadewijch, in which a
young woman’s earnest blind faith causes dire consequences for her and those
around her. Except, A Banquet keeps its options open with respects to
the validity of Betsey’s visions. Weirdly, that makes it a hard film to
embrace, from any perspective.
Despite
its cold, off-putting vibe, Lindsay Duncan largely carries and nearly redeems
the entire film as Grandma June. Her penetrating intelligence grabs the viewer’s
attention and the way she tells a supernatural folk tale can raise goosebumps
on the back of your neck. Frankly, she really should have been the film’s
primary POV.
