Nightcrawler is a disturbing thriller that entertains as much as it unnerves, and I'm not sure that's necessarily a good thing.
The directorial debut of screenwriter Dan Gillroy (The Bourne Legacy), Nightcrawler does for paparazzi what One Hour Photo did for shop assistants and, indeed, Jake Gyllenhaal is on similar, sinister territory to Robin William's award-winning turn.
Lou Bloom (Gyllenhaal) is an unemployed petty criminal searching for work and a quick income. As driven as he is desperate, he chances upon an emergency situation and observes the underbelly of journalism at work: The nightcrawlers, an unsavoury breed of TV news camera operators who monitor the police radio channels and scour the streets to capture lucrative, graphic 'real life' footage of accidents, murder and mayhem for the early morning news. The greater the tragedy and the more gratuitous the footage, the bigger the cheque.
A self-professed quick learner, Bloom buys a cheap camera and shoots his first footage. An astounded news veteran, Nina (Rene Russo), snaps up the footage, gives him a quick lesson in shooting for the news and sends him on his way, unaware how ambitious Bloom is, or that he just might be a psychopath.
Nightcrawler is a film of blurred lines. Is Bloom obsessed or unhinged? Does the news provide a service or macabre entertainment? When a cameraman shoots bedlam, is he a courageous professional opening a door onto another world for us, or just a voyeur twitching back the curtain for us to gawp? And are we any less guilty for watching? Gillroy has also ensured the relationship are as blurred as the themes, creating an ambiguity around that of Bloom and Nina. The scales of control waver and quite how much one party is coerced or a willing participant becomes hazy as Nightcrawler progresses, and it is all the better for it.
The dynamic between Gyllenhall and Russo is exciting to watch, with the actors sparring beautifully. There is a crackle in the air when they share the screen due in part to the actors' possession of it, more so to the balance of fragility and confidence of their characters as the see-saw of power teeters on its fulcrum. While Bloom and Nina might claim to be newshounds offering a public service, when we get down to it he is little more than a grubby paparazzo and she his pimp.
For those who recall the night and the aftermath of the paparazzi hounding that resulted in Princess Diana's death, Nightcrawler highlights the apparent good intentions of the responsible press and their overtures of self-governance and accountability by pointing at their abject failure to actually change. But it doesn't go far enough.
Nightcrawler gives the impression of being really edgy but it doesn't quite hit those heights. Certainly it is unpleasant at times, occasionally it is downright distasteful, but it needs more. It scratches the filmy surface when it desperately needs to penetrate and sink to the murky depths of the mire beneath.
Its strengths are in the idea and the characters, both the two principals and the supporting characters: Joe Loder (Bill Paxton as a rival nightcrawler who regards Bloom as a dangerous threat) and Rick (Riz Ahmed as Bloom's put-upon assistant troubled by both scruples and fear). But while both characters add a layer of depth and understanding to the human mess that is Bloom, in Joe's case, at least, I couldn't help feeling there was more that should have made the cut.
Gillroy has packed Nightcrawler with darkness, brutality and the kind of horrific shots that make it onto the worst news shows on TV, but here they make the viewer want to see more, not to squirm and look away as we should. His film, though a fine debut, doesn't shock or horrify in the way it feels as though it should, and in the end Bloom doesn't come across as a sinister man, just an unpleasant geek with dark methods.
Nightcrawler is exciting in a gratuitous way and I'm not entirely convinced that was the intention or that I am any better than Bloom for having sat there and enjoyed the experience. But I can handle that. Rather more concerning is that it peters out with a whimper instead of a stinging finale.
I don't care about the morals of the film, I wanted to emerge either enraged or whooping it up in celebration. Instead I departed with a sigh akin to eating a fine cake, saving the cherry until last only to discover it is a wax decoration.
The directorial debut of screenwriter Dan Gillroy (The Bourne Legacy), Nightcrawler does for paparazzi what One Hour Photo did for shop assistants and, indeed, Jake Gyllenhaal is on similar, sinister territory to Robin William's award-winning turn.
Lou Bloom (Gyllenhaal) is an unemployed petty criminal searching for work and a quick income. As driven as he is desperate, he chances upon an emergency situation and observes the underbelly of journalism at work: The nightcrawlers, an unsavoury breed of TV news camera operators who monitor the police radio channels and scour the streets to capture lucrative, graphic 'real life' footage of accidents, murder and mayhem for the early morning news. The greater the tragedy and the more gratuitous the footage, the bigger the cheque.
A self-professed quick learner, Bloom buys a cheap camera and shoots his first footage. An astounded news veteran, Nina (Rene Russo), snaps up the footage, gives him a quick lesson in shooting for the news and sends him on his way, unaware how ambitious Bloom is, or that he just might be a psychopath.
Nightcrawler is a film of blurred lines. Is Bloom obsessed or unhinged? Does the news provide a service or macabre entertainment? When a cameraman shoots bedlam, is he a courageous professional opening a door onto another world for us, or just a voyeur twitching back the curtain for us to gawp? And are we any less guilty for watching? Gillroy has also ensured the relationship are as blurred as the themes, creating an ambiguity around that of Bloom and Nina. The scales of control waver and quite how much one party is coerced or a willing participant becomes hazy as Nightcrawler progresses, and it is all the better for it.
The dynamic between Gyllenhall and Russo is exciting to watch, with the actors sparring beautifully. There is a crackle in the air when they share the screen due in part to the actors' possession of it, more so to the balance of fragility and confidence of their characters as the see-saw of power teeters on its fulcrum. While Bloom and Nina might claim to be newshounds offering a public service, when we get down to it he is little more than a grubby paparazzo and she his pimp.
For those who recall the night and the aftermath of the paparazzi hounding that resulted in Princess Diana's death, Nightcrawler highlights the apparent good intentions of the responsible press and their overtures of self-governance and accountability by pointing at their abject failure to actually change. But it doesn't go far enough.
Nightcrawler gives the impression of being really edgy but it doesn't quite hit those heights. Certainly it is unpleasant at times, occasionally it is downright distasteful, but it needs more. It scratches the filmy surface when it desperately needs to penetrate and sink to the murky depths of the mire beneath.
Its strengths are in the idea and the characters, both the two principals and the supporting characters: Joe Loder (Bill Paxton as a rival nightcrawler who regards Bloom as a dangerous threat) and Rick (Riz Ahmed as Bloom's put-upon assistant troubled by both scruples and fear). But while both characters add a layer of depth and understanding to the human mess that is Bloom, in Joe's case, at least, I couldn't help feeling there was more that should have made the cut.
Gillroy has packed Nightcrawler with darkness, brutality and the kind of horrific shots that make it onto the worst news shows on TV, but here they make the viewer want to see more, not to squirm and look away as we should. His film, though a fine debut, doesn't shock or horrify in the way it feels as though it should, and in the end Bloom doesn't come across as a sinister man, just an unpleasant geek with dark methods.
Nightcrawler is exciting in a gratuitous way and I'm not entirely convinced that was the intention or that I am any better than Bloom for having sat there and enjoyed the experience. But I can handle that. Rather more concerning is that it peters out with a whimper instead of a stinging finale.
I don't care about the morals of the film, I wanted to emerge either enraged or whooping it up in celebration. Instead I departed with a sigh akin to eating a fine cake, saving the cherry until last only to discover it is a wax decoration.