STOKER is more style than substance

 

       Director Chan-wook Park took my breath away with the cult film, Oldboy (2003), which is a spellbinding revenge tale. The film blended grit, violence, humor, and one of the most compelling mysteries ever told into a tasty dish of stylized direction. Everything from composition, bold colors, and De Palma-like use of split screens, Oldboy became a solid undertaking in stylish cinema. Stoker is Chan-wook Park’s first foray into Hollywood, and although his flamboyant visual grammar is apparent, the script doesn’t climax as well as its predominant influence, Alfred Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt (1943).  Stoker has all of the qualities of a captivating, psychological thriller—murder and sex go hand-and-hand, characters aren’t what they seem, and the plot takes a twist into the dark side. Unfortunately, the director has more fun teasing us, rather than, revealing.       The story is about an uncle who moves into his sister-in-law’s house, after his brother mysteriously dies. The odd trio—mother, daughter and uncle—oozes of sexual tension. Nicole Kidman plays Evelyn Stoker, and like her bizarre daughter, India (Mia Wasikowska), she's smitten by the relentless charm of their new houseguest, Uncle Charles (Matthew Goode). The key relationship is between India and Charles, and as the plot slowly thickens, the audience is aware that Charles Stoker isn’t quite who he says he is. 
     Chan-wook Park paints a surreal picture; images that express isolation and bitterness are ironically, beautiful. The work of a master surrealist is evident, but the script builds and builds, but somehow, falls flat. Something sinister is coming this way, and let me tell you, a gorgeously shot path is paved, but the overall dramatic impact is more flaccid than erect. What Stoker lacks in a suspenseful, character-driven story, makes up in a stylish visual scheme. However, it’s storytelling that really counts.
       One of the best motifs presented in the film are India’s shoes. She wears the simple, black-and-white saddle shoes worn in private schools. There’s a wonderful shot in which India is daydreaming on her bed, and every pair of shoes she has worn since a toddler are precisely placed in a circle around her body. Considering her last pair of shoes is classy pumps with heels as sharp as teeth, the shoes represent her development from odd child to a fledging and sexual adult. I smell a reference to Dorothy’s ruby slippers in The Wizard of Oz (1939).
      Chan-wook Park, similar to Brian De Palma, underscores the dark humor and sexuality in Hitchcock’s work. There’s a scene where India is taking a shower, washing the blood off her body, and as she masturbates the film intercuts to a murder. The scene reminded me of the opening of De Palma’s Dressed to Kill (1980), where the camera peers into a steam-filled shower, building suspense, only to reveal Angie Dickinson playing with herself, fantasizing being raped by a stranger. The shower scene in Stoker intercuts sexual and violent desires, but afterwards, the tone and pacing remain the same, when it should rise to a new level of suspense and intrigue. Like I’ve said before, no one can do Hitchcock better than Hitchcock, but Brian De Palma comes pretty damn close.
       Stoker serves a nice slice of dark humor with its main dish, but there’s only so much an audience can take with the razzle-dazzle of prettified images. Somewhere, the story has to take the biggest leap, rather than the style. A masterwork is hidden underneath, but it seems to me that the writers aren’t sure where to go with this material.

**1/2 (out of four stars)