Rabbit, 2017.
Written and Directed by Luke Shanahan.
Starring Adelaide Clemens, Alex Russell, Jonny Pasvolsky, and Veerle Baetens.
SYNOPSIS:
A year after Maude’s twin sister goes missing, Maude goes looking for Cleo, believing her dreams are the key to bringing her sister back home.
This month special screenings of Psycho will run in theaters for Halloween. Where trailers have made people less concerned about getting to movies on time, this wouldn’t have been the case when the film originally came out. Alfred Hitchcock’s no late admission policy ensured no one would wander in after Psycho’s start time and wonder why Janet Leigh was nowhere to be found.
My reason for bringing this up now is because Rabbit would do well to instate a similar policy. Where many films give you time to warm-up and turn your focus to what’s happening on-screen, Rabbit doesn’t waste a second before getting down to business, and it doesn’t repeat itself later.
Take the opening credits. Where end credits have all the time they need, to scroll through names, it’s usually the job of the opening credits to be inconspicuous. Rabbit’s credits set the tone, as every time there’s a new name the film cuts to a red screen with white lettering, so you can’t be distracted by the movie. The association with blood is easy to make but it’s a dark red, compared to anything splashy or grindhouse, and Michael Darren’s sonorous score, eventually mixed with opera, tells a story through its interaction.
What’s actually happening on-screen is the familiar, horror image of a woman running through the woods. Ruthlessly cut with the red of the credits, it’s a dream our main character, Maude’s, been having about her twin sister, Cleo. Seeming to find safe harbor at the home of an old woman, Cleo soon discovers the danger wasn’t just behind her and, in the real world, she’s been missing for a year.
Their parents have buried an empty casket (Celine O’Leary gives a Lynchian turn as Maude’s grieving mother), but Maude believes her sister’s alive and that her dreams can be used to find her. Returning home to Australia with the resolve of finding Cleo, Maude is joined by Cleo’s fiancée, Ralph (Alex Russell), and Henry (Jonny Pasvolsky), a cop whose murder board obsession with the case Rabbit never tries hard to explain.
Even when you’re paying attention, Rabbit is a movie that makes you wish for the power of instant replay. Scenes feel meant to be watched more than once, yet at the same Rabbit stays with a moment exactly as long as it wants to be there. Longer, and there’s a tendency to pick scenes apart, in search for clues, but that’s not what the film’s asking from viewers. This isn’t a detective mystery. Henry failed to close the case so there isn’t going to be a clear line of investigation. Most of the buildings in Maude’s dreams are clearly named but you won’t see Maude on Google Maps trying to look them up.
Instead it’s unclear how Maude knows the directions to these places she’s never been before. The film doesn’t make a fuss over how she’s pulling it off, but it does give legitimacy to her dreams through what she uncovers. Rectify’s Adelaide Clemens plays both Cleo and Maude and her grounded performance, especially as Maude, where she doesn’t discount the possibility that she’s crazy, makes for a calm center in an otherwise increasingly strange world.
The production design by Amy Baker is superb in how it plays with whether identical twins should be treated the same. Cleo and Maude shared a childhood bedroom and there’s an obvious symmetry to the room, but also quite a few unspoken differences. Claire’s side of their shelf is covered with trophies and medals, divulging an athlete past the film doesn’t get into. Maude’s side is more bare, and later the camera turns sideways so Claire’s side is all you see. You wouldn’t know the room was shared or held another twin bed from this angle.
Around midway the film takes a major shift, and viewers will differ in how fond they are of this transition, but while Rabbit doesn’t strive for conclusiveness, it does deliver the kind of thriller you’ll be glad you stayed up late to watch.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Rachel Bellwoar
Originally published October 17, 2017. Updated April 11, 2018.
