Dir:
Rowan Joffe
With: Nicole Kidman, Colin Firth, Mark Strong
Runtime: 92 minutes
HAD she been born in a different era, would Nicole Kidman have made it into the ranks of Hitchcock's blondes alongside Kim Novak, Tippi Hedren, Grace Kelly and the rest of that outwardly fragile troupe?
It is something to ponder while watching the wannabe Hitch thriller, Before I Go To Sleep. One thing is for certain, the master of suspense would have kept a tighter grip on proceedings than director Rowan Joffe manages here. No matter the complexity of the story, Hitchcock kept his mysteries as taut as piano wire. After an impressive first half, Joffe's picture unravels to such an extent that, by the end, it has all the tension of overcooked spaghetti.
Before I Go To Sleep is adapted from the bestselling novel by SJ Watson and stars Kidman as Christine Lucas. As a result of an incident in her past, Christine wakes up each morning with no memory of who she is or why she is sleeping next to Colin Firth. The actor formerly known as Mr Darcy must explain that he is her husband, that this is where they live, and so on. He goes through everything, down to the last detail. It is like reprogramming a computer from scratch.
Christine, understandably, exists in a state of permanent confusion. It is bad enough misplacing the car keys, never mind the last ten years of one's life. But cut to two weeks earlier and we see that she has somehow held herself together long enough to do something about this catastrophic memory loss. She has been approached by a neuropsychologist, played by Mark Strong, who has offered to help her put her memory back together again. With the help of the kindly Dr Nash, and keeping a video diary on her camera, Christine begins to construct a different version of her past. But which one can she trust?
You can see how the director of Spellbound and Suspicion would have had a ball with this idea, sending the audience down one blind alley after another like a pack of myopic mice, and for a time Joffe does too. He has his heroine and heroes lined up like puppets, the strings in his hand, so what is he going to do next?
Psychological thrillers rely on a subtle touch to work. Things or people have to be just a smidgen out of kilter to make one question what is really going on. Having observed this rule for a spell, Joffe (28 Weeks Later, The American), makes the same mistake he did in his 2010 adaptation of Brighton Rock and goes too far, too fast. What was subtle becomes shrieking, what was hinted at turns obvious. He is cooking with gas all right, too much of it.
There is another problem here, of course: if you have read the book you will know the story. That need not be insurmountable. The 39 Steps is no less thrilling for having read Buchan's masterpiece. The tension is still there, the chase still a hoot. Joffe proves to be in too much of a hurry, tearing towards his denouement rather than padding softly like a cat towards its prey.
The answer to the Kidman question- would she have made a fine Hitchcock blonde - is yes. More so than Firth and Strong would have made Hitchockian heroes. Despite their best efforts both are strictly one note here. Another contender for Hitchcock heroine is Anne-Marie Duff, who turns up here as a figure from Christine's past. Duff (The Magdalene Sisters) is usually the most watchable actor in any production she is in, and she shows once again that having a small part is no bar to making a big impression.
But back to Kidman. She has the right blend of porcelain looks and inner steeliness to be one of Hitch's ladies, and she looks every inch the movie star whether bewitched, bothered or bewildered. Pity that like everything else in this movie, her performance starts out a picture of poise only to spiral out of control.
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