Maybe this movie does not follow normal or accepted modes of exposition. Maybe what is infuriating some of the posters is that they have been fooled into thinking that it is a 'typical' movie - albeit with a somewhat strange premise - and that it will resolve like similar movies (Vertigo, Sixth Sense come to mind).
Actually, it has more in common with surrealist movies by directors like Luis Bunuel (i.e. 'Andalusian Dog') than Hitchcock, Shyamalan or Lynch. I must admit, I didn't come this understanding at first. I was tired when I watched it and knew nothing about it beforehand. I watched it through to the end and then sat there stewing and wondering what I had just watched.
The story is told through the eyes of the main character, Marc, but unlike Bunuel or Dali, this director did not scream 'dream' or 'hallucination' at the audience. Instead, you are lulled into believing that you are 'viewing' a story unfold rather than being in the story - inhabiting Marc's point of view.
I felt the frustration that someone who is going through a breakdown (or nightmare) might feel. Feeling betrayed by those close to you (Bruno and Agnes discussing the 'chemical strait-jacket' she slipped into his drink) - allowing emotion to override logic (why DIDN'T he show those pictures to Agnes??). Taking for granted that it was moving in a temporally forward direction rather than picking up at the middle moving to the beginning then winding up at the... beginning?
I am confused and betrayed, Marc is confused and betrayed. Many viewers probably felt ripped off (judging from some of the comments on this forum). What did I (Marc) imagine? What was real? Who are the villains? Are there villains? Was this a dream? Did I have a psychotic episode?
You can be angry at being tricked into believing many things in this movie. Tricked by the style that doesn't clue you into its intentions causing you to walk away unsatisfied. Tricked by the dead-end narrative lines carried by Hitchcock or Lynchian devices that don't deliver the implied payoff. And unlike a movie such as the Sixth Sense, going back to review it for hints of the ending is pointless. We all know he had a mustache in the photos. We all know he went to Hongkong by himself (don't we?).
It might be that the great sin of this movie is that its premise of irreality was never signaled. Everything appeared real - just as it might appear to a victim of mental illness.
Actually, it has more in common with surrealist movies by directors like Luis Bunuel (i.e. 'Andalusian Dog') than Hitchcock, Shyamalan or Lynch. I must admit, I didn't come this understanding at first. I was tired when I watched it and knew nothing about it beforehand. I watched it through to the end and then sat there stewing and wondering what I had just watched.
The story is told through the eyes of the main character, Marc, but unlike Bunuel or Dali, this director did not scream 'dream' or 'hallucination' at the audience. Instead, you are lulled into believing that you are 'viewing' a story unfold rather than being in the story - inhabiting Marc's point of view.
I felt the frustration that someone who is going through a breakdown (or nightmare) might feel. Feeling betrayed by those close to you (Bruno and Agnes discussing the 'chemical strait-jacket' she slipped into his drink) - allowing emotion to override logic (why DIDN'T he show those pictures to Agnes??). Taking for granted that it was moving in a temporally forward direction rather than picking up at the middle moving to the beginning then winding up at the... beginning?
I am confused and betrayed, Marc is confused and betrayed. Many viewers probably felt ripped off (judging from some of the comments on this forum). What did I (Marc) imagine? What was real? Who are the villains? Are there villains? Was this a dream? Did I have a psychotic episode?
You can be angry at being tricked into believing many things in this movie. Tricked by the style that doesn't clue you into its intentions causing you to walk away unsatisfied. Tricked by the dead-end narrative lines carried by Hitchcock or Lynchian devices that don't deliver the implied payoff. And unlike a movie such as the Sixth Sense, going back to review it for hints of the ending is pointless. We all know he had a mustache in the photos. We all know he went to Hongkong by himself (don't we?).
It might be that the great sin of this movie is that its premise of irreality was never signaled. Everything appeared real - just as it might appear to a victim of mental illness.