SOURCE CODE
   
STARRING: Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle
Monaghan, Vera Farmiga, Jeffrey Wright
2011, 93 Minutes, Directed by:
Duncan Jones
In
2009’s Moon, director Duncan Jones found clever ways to
refresh sci-fi tropes and instill emotional stakes into a distancing story of
isolation.
Building on the idea of
frustration through separation, Jones keeps the sci-fi and ventures into
Hitchcockian thriller territory with Source Code, a stunningly crafted
suspense tale of alarming surprise and resonance, elevating the young helmer to
a level of accomplishment few filmmakers are able to achieve. Winding
nail-biting suspense out of pure repetition and moderate existential panic,
Jones nails a feverish pitch that takes a bizarre concept and shapes it into
exhilarating cinema.
Waking up inside the body of an
Illinois teacher, Captain Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal) is disoriented,
finding himself riding on a commuter train to Chicago, sitting across from
Christina (Michelle Monaghan), a flirtatious colleague. After eight minutes, the
train is bombed into oblivion, forcing Colter back into a steel pod where he’s
monitored by camera, manned by a sympathetic officer named Goodwin (Vera Farmiga).
Instructed to return to the
train and investigate the passengers to figure out the identity of the terrorist
detonating the bomb, Colter is sent back time and again, handed eight brief
minutes to gather information about the incident, while deducing his own purpose
within this enigmatic military operation.
In a way, Source Code is
a more frantic take on Groundhog Day, exploring the
lead character’s growth as a detective and human being while trapped in a cycle
of doom, living a brief moment in time over and over, frantically searching for
equilibrium. The screenplay by Ben Ripley takes a unique position in that he
handles the science as well as the heart of the story with exceptional care,
keeping the film mysterious but also emotional, finding character within this
madness instead of fetishizing the explosive artifice.
"One of the best pictures of the year!" |
The script is filled with turns
and questions, exploiting Colter’s anxiety as he’s jerked back and forth between
the train and the debriefing pod, with each trip rendering him more focused and
aware, leading him to question Goodwin, who’s clearly unprepared for the
traveler’s responsiveness.
Source Code is a puzzle,
but not one that alienates the viewer. The math is a bit funky, but Jones and
Ripley lock into position immediately, intent on providing a rewarding thriller
experience. With each trip to the train, Colter is urged to interrogate his
fellow commuters, which confuses Christina and often lands the traveler in
antagonistic scuffles with complete strangers.
The joy of the film is
observing these heated adventures, watching as the character pieces the clues
together while attaining consciousness, often sold with exceptional visual
effects (a simple moment where Colter leaps from a speeding train is pure movie
magic) and propulsive editing, urged along by a furious score from Chris Bacon.
Jones conducts with confidence, getting the viewer into the mood of
investigation while cleverly reinforcing Colter’s vulnerability and his habitual
need to protect the passengers and Christina, despite orders to stick to the
facts.
Obviously, I’m not going to
push this review into spoiler territory. I wouldn’t dare give away Ripley’s
superbly scripted secrets or compromise Jones’s visual invention. However, I
need to share praise for the film’s soulful urge, which fills the story with
color, raising the stakes where other thrillers would lose themselves to the
plastic details. Strangely, Jones extends the conclusion far beyond satisfying
climatic strikes, yet I can’t blame the man for his reluctance to let go of his
characters.
Source Code is expert at
keeping viewers on the edge of their seats, but don’t be shocked if it
encourages a tear or two along the way. Jones has crafted a rounded, weighty
thrill ride, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it ends up as one of the best
pictures of the year.
- Brian Orndorf
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