Almost at the very start, the film gives away what I had thought, based on the lackluster Netflix synopsis, would be the main key/grab of the film. It doesn't constitute a spoiler since it is in the IMDB synopsis and related to the true themes of the film.
A dainty young woman is newlyweds with a large, old rich doctor type. He's supposedly very much in love with her and has a house with biometric locks on all the doors. She can access every door. He asks her gently and politely not to enter one door in particular. Since this is a movie, she goes into that door and discovers a human cloning lab.
For a while after this early revelation, the film just kind of lingers for a bit, repeats itself a bit, and introduces some largely anemic elements like Dylan Baker's character and Ciaran Hinds fulfilling his actorly role in outdoing Sean Bean in terms of character fates.
Then, at some point about 2/3rds of the way through the film, the film finally gets to its main thematic plot and its "twists", but these unfold almost entirely through exposition dumps.
The film essentially gives up with the film adage "show, don't tell" and has everything dumped on us almost all at once in the form of Elizabeth reading diary entries, with flashback sequences, that explain absolutely everything.
It's the sort of thing that most likely would have played out infinitely better in a novel format, or as a very carefully edited TV miniseries. Instead it comes across almost clumsily, less like a masterfully crafted story and more like a compromise to get the core story to be told in a way that isn't completely dense or nonsensical.
With the diary exposition dump, the story is told in full, albeit in a very weak, rushed, unsatisfying way. Without the diary exposition dump, the story is essentially untold, and the events depicted in the film are left up to wild interpretation.
This is a hard case because it's unclear which option would have been superior; a story that holds your hand and has to explain everything because it cannot coherently show you everything, or a story that tells you nothing and shows you almost nothing, effectively doing away with its most relevant themes and messages.
As a whole, it's the kind of story that demands a more focused medium than a 90-120 minute realistic film fixed on a single character's point of view. Otherwise we are better off reading the story for ourselves.
A dainty young woman is newlyweds with a large, old rich doctor type. He's supposedly very much in love with her and has a house with biometric locks on all the doors. She can access every door. He asks her gently and politely not to enter one door in particular. Since this is a movie, she goes into that door and discovers a human cloning lab.
For a while after this early revelation, the film just kind of lingers for a bit, repeats itself a bit, and introduces some largely anemic elements like Dylan Baker's character and Ciaran Hinds fulfilling his actorly role in outdoing Sean Bean in terms of character fates.
Then, at some point about 2/3rds of the way through the film, the film finally gets to its main thematic plot and its "twists", but these unfold almost entirely through exposition dumps.
The film essentially gives up with the film adage "show, don't tell" and has everything dumped on us almost all at once in the form of Elizabeth reading diary entries, with flashback sequences, that explain absolutely everything.
It's the sort of thing that most likely would have played out infinitely better in a novel format, or as a very carefully edited TV miniseries. Instead it comes across almost clumsily, less like a masterfully crafted story and more like a compromise to get the core story to be told in a way that isn't completely dense or nonsensical.
With the diary exposition dump, the story is told in full, albeit in a very weak, rushed, unsatisfying way. Without the diary exposition dump, the story is essentially untold, and the events depicted in the film are left up to wild interpretation.
This is a hard case because it's unclear which option would have been superior; a story that holds your hand and has to explain everything because it cannot coherently show you everything, or a story that tells you nothing and shows you almost nothing, effectively doing away with its most relevant themes and messages.
As a whole, it's the kind of story that demands a more focused medium than a 90-120 minute realistic film fixed on a single character's point of view. Otherwise we are better off reading the story for ourselves.