It's no surprise at all that Alice disappears in The Disappearance of Alice Creed. You'd be rightfully disappointed if she didn't and probably ask for your money back. What does come is a surprise is not one but two sizeable twists in writer/director J. Blakeson's rigourous thriller. Somewhere in claustrophobic Britain, Vic (Eddie Marsan) and Eddie (Martin Compston) kidnap Alice (Gemma Arterton) for cash. It's a cold, calculated act of brutality then a long period of impatient waiting. What develops is a violent, psychological chess game as each player tries desperately hard to outwit the other.
Audiences have been divided over Blakeson's deliberately stylised approach and his cheery embrace of genre staples like 'the twist'. Stories like this demand the convention; the trick is in delivering them in unexpected ways which, by and large, he succeeds at doing. Likewise employing a hyper-realistic patina might reek of the Guy Ritchie school of filmmaking but again, that's more or less the point. Dirk Bogarde is accommodated in Victim's stylised shadows for a reason.
It's true that, once the surprises are doled out, The Disappearance of Alice Creed looses much of its air and quickly deflates. Until that point, it is a taut, energised example of how much can be done with three actors, two rooms and a bed. With very little, Blakeson achieves more than many CGI-bloated blockbusters ever do, and once loaded with inky black humour and frightening performances escalates far beyond its boundaries. The Disappearance of Alice Creed is a superlative game in which Blakeson is the cat to your mouse. How much you enjoy that dictates how much you'll enjoy the film.
// COLIN FRASER
The Disappearance of Alice Creed really gets under your skin. It is perhaps one of the most taut, disturbing films you are likely to see all year. It would easily work as a three-handed play, but the director, J Blakeson, used HD footage which succeeded in creating a cinematic quality that he claims gave the film ‘a certain amount of artifice and style’. These qualities are apparent from the moment the film opens.
We follow two men, Vic (Eddie Marsan) and Danny (Martin Compston), on a shopping tour in their plastic lined van. There is no dialogue, or indeed anyone else around, when they purchase a mattress, a drill and other supplies. They use their purchases to set up a prison cell in an abandoned apartment. It sets the scenario for the horrendous kidnapping of a young girl, Alice Creed (Gemma Arterton, Prince of Persia) - who is bundled into the van on a suburban street, somewhere in the Isle of Man.
We learn that the men, who met each other in prison, plan to make a mint on the ransom from Alice’s father, a rich businessman. The first few hours of Alice’s captivity are degrading and quite frankly nauseating to watch, as she is subjected to psychological nightmare. Vic is the older captor with a steely reserve and seems to have a hold over Danny, the nervous, younger kidnapper. Vic is undoubtedly the one who planned everything and is the more volatile of the two. Danny on the other hand, appears to be just a lackey and you get the impression that he was a petty criminal, who ended up in a more hardened prison environment, where he met Vic.
Alice puts up a fight and yet her strength is no match to her situation. You can’t fake fear, and fear is real enough, as the plot starts to take various twists and turns and the relationship between the captors and their victim becomes more convoluted. There are solid performances from the three actors who interact in a power-play of greed and duplicity and above all, survival.
Blakeson manages to maintain a sense of claustrophobia and tension that does not let up and the final twist gives a whole new meaning to the film’s title. This is Brit cinema at its best. If you want an uneasy and creepy experience at the movies, go with a friend and plan to have a stiff drink afterwards. You may need it!
// SALT
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