Review: Surge (2020)

Surge (2020)

Directed by: Aneil Karia | 105 minutes | thriller | Actors: Ben Whishaw, Hammed Animashaun, Jasmine Jobson, Laurence Spellman, Chris Coghill, Ian Gelder, Stacha Hicks, Ryan McKen, Jack Pierce, Muna Otaru, Bogdan Kominowski, Nish Nathwani, Bradley Taylor, Ray Calleja, Lucy Thackeray, Ranjit Singh ShubhYohanna Ephrem

Joseph works as a security guard at Heathrow airport and has an apartment somewhere in metropolis London. In his kitchenette he gulps down his dinner, then falls asleep in front of the television and gets up before dawn to go back to work. Day in, day out, the same tune for Joseph. You can feel the discomfort in everything about him, not only at work, but also in his private life. In fact, he is not comfortable in his own skin at all. Moreover, he has almost no social contacts. And then comes that trip to his parents. Joseph’s social unease comes from a stranger when you see his father Alan (Ian Gelder). His mother Joyce (Ellie Haddington), the nervousness itself, still seems somewhat gentle, but is an emotional wreck. Joseph, played with verve by Ben Whishaw, is, as the English speakers so aptly put it, always ‘on edge’, on the verge of emotionally exploding. This can therefore only go wrong and the only thing the viewer can do with ‘Surge’ is undergo this complete crash of Joseph. Or is Joseph’s mental breakdown also a form of liberation?

Whishaw is the king of ‘Surge’, thundering through almost every frame of film. He completely surrenders to the role, which is so intense emotionally and physically, especially the amount of tics, that you start to worry about Whishaw the human being himself. At one point, Joseph even “eats” glass. You are quickly impressed by such a dedication to acting. In the few scenes Mother Haddington has, she also opens all the emotional registers. Joyce knows all too well that her love is partly at the root of Joseph’s instability. Yet she continues to pamper him, from the womb to death. Joseph’s father Alan would prefer not to meet you anywhere of the three, he is the sour in the plum, the bitter in the biscuit. Except in films by Ingmar Bergman, the Swedish connoisseur of neurotic types, there are few who can act like that.

‘Surge’ belongs to an unofficial genre that peaks every few years: the angry man movie. Central to this ‘genre’ are men who can no longer take it all and turn their lives, including that of loved ones, upside down out of revenge and/or freedom. ‘The Fight Club’ (David Fincher, 1999) with Edward Norton as the angry centerpiece and ‘Falling Down’ with Michael Douglas (Joel Schumacher, 1993) are well-known examples from the 1990s. Most recently you had the films ‘You Were Never Really Here’ (Lynne Ramsey, 2017), in which Joaquin Phoenix plays a frustrated veteran, and ‘Unhinged’ (Derrick Borte, 2020) with Russell Crowe as a crazy citizen. But perhaps ‘Taxi Driver’ (Martin Scorsese, 1976) is the godfather of this genre. Then you should definitely also mention the screenwriter of this classic, Paul Schrader. His entire oeuvre consists almost of this kind of damaged men, the misunderstood misfits of society. Schrader’s credits include ‘First Reformed’ (2017), ‘Autofocus’ (2002), ‘Light Sleeper’ (1992), ‘Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters’ (1985) and ‘American Gigolo’ (1980). By the way, you can add his latest production to this, ‘The Card Counter’ (2021). Oscar Isaac plays a traumatized war veteran who turns to poker professionally. What is striking about these Schrader and Scorsese films is that they also explore an environment, such as the priesthood in ‘First Reformed’ and the world of male prostitution in ‘American Gigolo’. ‘Surge’ is much less interested in Joseph’s milieu. It is so focused on Whishaw’s acting that it loses sight of almost everything else. What does director Aneil Karia really want to say with Joseph’s breakdown? That western society is a kind of catalyst for these loners? Were they lame from birth? Or was Joseph just not? The film mainly leaves this to the viewer. However, so little explanation of possible motives and causes also shows a lack of creativity and ultimately expressiveness.

In terms of the evil-man movie’s execution, ‘Surge’ seems like the British answer to the ‘Joker’ (Todd Phillips, 2019), but without makeup and Batmans. Both films scream that the increasingly manic society is a guaranteed breeding ground for the Josephs and Jokers among us. Phillips’ ‘The Joker’ also makes full references to Scorsese’s seventies work, especially the wonderfully uncomfortable ‘The King of Comedy’ (1982). In this film, Robert De Niro plays the lonely Rupert Pupkin who is totally obsessed with celebrity and stand-up comedy. Pupkin strives for as much success as his hero Jerry Langford, a David Letterman-esque talk show figure, but then loses himself in shameful and criminal behavior when Langford rejects him. ‘The King of Comedy’ explores the destructive side of the celebrity cult. Scorsese’s film is therefore not only about a lonely and self-destructive man. Surge, on the other hand, doesn’t say much more than that Joseph is having a mental breakdown, because it’s just getting too much for him. Unfortunately, this one-sided perspective proves fatal for the rest of the film. This is all the more unfortunate, as Whishaw has totally surrendered to this role without any hesitation.

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