Greta, 2019.
Directed by Neil Jordan.
Starring Chloë Grace Moretz, Isabelle Huppert, Maika Monroe, Zawe Ashton, Colm Feore, and Stephen Rea.
SYNOPSIS:
A young woman returns an elderly widow’s lost purse, leading to an unlikely relationship between the two — until the young woman discovers her elder might not be all that she seems.
There are two hooks to Greta (one exclusively for film buffs, with the other serving as a more broad stroke of crowd-pleasing); general audiences are going to have a blast witnessing a gender reversal on serial killer/slasher tropes that have persisted throughout horror since its inception. Even though it’s fairly predictable where the story is going beat by beat, it’s refreshing that an obsessive lonely old widow is the one doing the stalking and the killing (technically you could say the original Friday the 13th did this first, and I’m sure a few other movies have followed suit, but it’s rare to get something so openly batshit that embraces female leads giving them outrageous material to mine for schlocky entertainment). The real kicker is that this titular nutjob Greta is played by legendary French actress Isabelle Huppert, chewing the scenery for a performance that captures the B-movie madness of the character while (in the first half anyway, before all hell truly breaks loose) generating some empathy regarding her unstable mind.
With no more husband and an estranged daughter living it up in Paris, Greta is consumed by loneliness to the point where it compromises her moral integrity and sanity. She purposely loses bags around New York City with the intentions that some kind soul will pick it up, search for address details inside, return it, and then befriend her out of sympathy and pity. Frances (Chloe Grace Moretz) becomes the prime sucker, bringing one of the bags back only to make more plans to hang around Greta, mainly because she sees a surrogate mother in her to replace her own tragically deceased parent. It also doesn’t help that she resents her successful businessman father for moving on quickly.
Renting out an apartment with her friend, Frances receives a little bit of backlash from Erica (Maika Monroe, serving as both the voice of reason and comedic relief), who believes it’s weird that she’s cooking dinner and helping the lady pick out new dogs. One of the audiences first clues that something is not right is Greta’s apparent adeptness at using her computer, despite previously feigning knowledge on how to add a number to her cell phone. There’s more to Huppert’s performance than the flashy, over-the-top predictable kidnapping nonsense to come (the film almost seems like it actually does not want to go this route before caving and doing so anyway, but not without some nice directorial touches that keep viewers on their toes questioning what is real and what isn’t); she’s a chronic liar and emotional manipulator. Isabelle Huppert is so committed to this ludicrous role that it’s a wonder why the script and direction (both of which are from Oscar-winning filmmaker Neil Jordan collaborating on a story from co-writer Ray Wright) are settling for cheap jump-scare tackiness in the first place, usually involving Greta popping up wherever Frances is located.
The plot also relies on a ridiculous amount of conveniences that can’t be counted on both hands. As Greta becomes frighteningly obsessive, one would think restraining orders and the police would immediately become involved. Nope; restraining orders are not an option and the police, who don’t make an appearance until halfway through the movie, are unable to do anything either. Keep in mind, this is following a fairly terrifying and blatantly threatening stalking sequence. I’m not going to claim to know the laws on what is allowed and what isn’t, but one would assume real-life law enforcement would actually do something about this situation. Then there’s unbelievable miscommunication played off as manipulative intelligence on the behalf of Greta to isolate and abduct Frances, but it all comes across as silly. The whole movie becomes more and more increasingly stupid, but the actors are going for broke and having so much fun it’s hard to not surrender and enjoy it yourself. If that wasn’t enough, Neil Jordan employs a frequent acting collaborator in Stephen Rea to portray a private investigator in a superfluous segment that pads the running time while giving Greta the opportunity to further become less of a character and more of a cartoon. Even the ending forgets to tie up one or two spoilerific loose ends.
Not to single out Greta, but in the age of diversification, representation, and reversing gender roles, filmmakers also have to be cautious to do right by the stories and not scrape the bottom of the barrel for every cliché and deem it appropriate. There will never be a justifiable offsetting to laziness. Consider the clichés I’ve already mentioned, and now note that there are about 50 more irritating staples of the genre I never got around to discussing. Actually saying something thoughtful about the dangers of crushing loneliness could have gone a long way in balancing out the craziness without sacrificing much of the loony excitement. Simply put, Neil Jordan has Isabelle Huppert and Chloe Grace Moretz (and breakneck pacing deliberately designed to keep audiences thinking less and less about every single contrivance as one crops up every 30 seconds) to thank for salvaging this into something watchable; the former should immediately be cast as the next Michael Myers.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, friend me on Facebook, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, check out my personal non-Flickering Myth affiliated Patreon, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
Originally published March 1, 2019. Updated November 28, 2019.
