Cast: Halle Berry, Robert Downey Jr, Charles S. Dutton, John Carroll Lynch, Bernard Hill, Penelope Cruz
Director: Mathieu Kassovitz
Producers: Susan Levin, Joel Silver, Robert Zemeckis
Screenplay: Sebastian Gutierrez
Cinematography: Matthew Libatique
Music: John Ottman
U.S. Distributor: Warner Brothers
Gothika is a train-wreck of a motion picture. It opens fine, even going so far as to generate a certain amount of momentum during the engaging first half. Then the wheels start coming off, one by one. The final 30 minutes represents a meltdown of almost unimaginable proportions, and, once the smoke has cleared, we're left sitting in the theater amidst the twisted, burnt wreckage of a plot that insults, betrays, and cheats every member of the audience. Stupidity to a degree can sometimes be forgiven. Stupidity to this degree can not and should not.
I will start out by admitting that ghost stories are notoriously difficult to get right. More often than not, they come across as cheesy and/or silly. For a while, it appears that director Mathieu Kassovitz overcomes this problem. The first 45-or-so minutes of Gothika are as effective as any scary movie I've seen in terms of atmosphere (the movie has two visual modes: dark and darker) and "boo!" moments. Kassovitz knows just how to move the camera to get us to jump. The problems start when the screenplay provides exposition about the apparitions. Suddenly, it's not scary any more - just ludicrous. And no amount of stylish cinematography can compensate for a screenplay that is irredeemably dumb.
Miranda Grey (Halle Berry) is a psychiatrist at a Connecticut hospital for the criminally insane. She is married to the hospital's director, Douglas Grey (Charles S. Dutton). One night, after a particularly trying session with a patient, Chloe (Penelope Cruz), who has visions of being raped by the devil, she is forced to make her way home in a driving rainstorm. Along the way, she nearly runs over a half-naked girl standing in the middle of the road. When she gets out of the car to investigate, something supernatural occurs. The next thing Miranda knows, she is a patient in the hospital and has been accused of brutally hacking to death her husband. Her doctor, Pete Graham (Robert Downey Jr.), is a former close friend and associate whose motives may be self-serving. And Miranda's supernatural visitations, which began on the night of the murder, are escalating in both frequency and intensity.
Aside from the ending not making any sense (both "in the moment" and when viewed in retrospect) due to plot holes, poor logic, and awful writing, it betrays our expectations. Gothika turns into a very silly murder mystery, complete with a "talking killer" (a bad guy who reveals his entire plan) and some cheesy special effects. The outside shots of the hospital during a thunderstorm look impressive, but the fire visuals are as artificial as the contrived resolution. It's easy enough to provide a list of movies that Gothika looks to for inspiration: The Shining, The Sixth Sense, Stir of Echoes, What Lies Beneath, and The Ring (to name a few). At least in terms of superficial scares, Gothika achieves its aim.
Halle Berry, who is unquestionably the movie's biggest "name" actor, spends most of the movie acting overwrought. It's an effective performance, but not a remarkable one. Berry does what the role requires of her; there are probably dozens of actresses who could have done as well, but most don't have an Oscar on their mantelpiece. Penelope Cruz uses this as an opportunity to try something unglamorous, although she doesn't have much screen time. Robert Downey Jr. is likewise given short shrift when it comes to a meaty part. Downey is capable of a lot more versatility that he is given a chance to show here. (See him in The Singing Detective if you doubt that statement.) Support comes from Charles S. Dutton and Bernard Hill, top-notch actors whose skills are equally wasted.
Kassovitz made an international splash with the French film La haine (Hate), but may be better known as the romantic match for Audrey Tatou in Amelie. Here, Kassovitz shows that he's a master of style and atmosphere, and one could argue that he does as much as can be done with an inferior script. Unfortunately, no number of "boo!" moments and interesting camera work can patch up a screenplay that is so fatally flawed. Gothika is handicapped by a B-movie conclusion to something that starts out with an A-level sense of suspense and mystery. There's nothing worse than watching an involving motion picture collapse into rubble before your eyes, and that's exactly what happens here. Like a train wreck, it's not a pretty sight.
© 2003 James Berardinelli