Note: this review may contain spoilers
Even on the kind of crisp November days as the ones that seem to have overtaken Dublin lately, it appears that a gaggle of journalists still resist the natural instincts to seek refuge from the cold. Fortunately for myself and the other meerkats dutifully positioned outside The Lighthouse Cinema, the swift and heroic intervention of a fellow reporter finally released the remaining stragglers from their self-imposed suffering; and we moved together, faithfully following our leader into the morning’s screening of Rian Johnson’s newest Wake Up Dead Man.
Wake Up Dead Man is the third instalment in the Knives Out movie series, which centres around private detective, Benoit Blanc played by Daniel Craig. Set in the small town of Chimney Rock in the ass crack of nowhere (Upstate New York), the film stars Josh O’Connor as Father Jud Duplenticy – a boxer turned priest to escape his sordid past that *gasp* involves murder.
After getting into a brawl with a Deacon in Albany, Jud is sent to revitalise the church in Chimney Rock, Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering, which has shrunk to a group of seven devout followers under the tyrannical rule of Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin). When Wicks is mysteriously murdered, Benoit Blanc is brought in by local chief of police, Geraldine Scott (Mila Kunis) to solve a baffling crime that could only have been committed by Father Jud or someone from Wicks’ faithful congregation.
This star-studded list of suspects, Wicks’ core group, includes Martha Delacroix (Glenn Close) and her partner Samson Holt (Thomas Haden Church) the groundskeeper; local doctor and divorcee; Dr. Nathaniel Sharp (Jeremy Renner), newcomer Simone (Cailee Spaeny) who struggles with chronic pain and believes Monsignor Wicks can heal her; the neurotic author, Lee Ross (Andrew Scott); as well as Wicks’ lawyer, Vera Draven (Kerry Washington) and her adopted son, Cy (Daryl McCormack).
As Jud soon finds out, Wicks has poisoned his congregation with hate and delusions, and in many ways the film really centralises the ways in which charismatic leaders like Monsignor Wicks feed on hatred and breed radicalisation – in addition to exposing the hypocrisy of these radical belief systems where morals and stand-points are often bended, or wholly thrown away, in blind loyalty. The opening shot, a warm, orange fire lighting up Benoit Blanc’s face, perfectly sets up the conflict of choosing between enlightenment or delusion – between right and wrong – and how faith fits into that picture. The cinematography continues to play with light both symbolically and as a reflection of the characters’ inner conflicts in a beautiful and powerful way.
The most notable instance of this is in the initial meeting between Blanc and Father Jud. The two men discuss faith and while Blanc is laying out his cynical perception of religion, the warm light in the church disappears and is replaced with a cold, blue hue. Father Jud’s pure belief once more fills the church with warm sunlight as he counters Blanc’s points about the fictionality of religion by explaining that maybe stories are the only ways humans can seek to understand the complexities of religion.
As evident from this scene, the film is deeply concerned with ideas of narrative, ranging from the political parasite, Cy Draven’s perpetual attempts at making it big in D.C. with whatever cause he believes is most appealing to voters, to Wicks’ aggressive and hateful fear-mongering that only turns himself and his followers more bitter and isolationist. Complementary to this focus on the stories we tell, the film also doesn’t hide its deep roots in the literary canon. In fact, the central murder finds its inception in a book club reading of John Dickson Carr’s 1935 novel, The Hollow Man.
With a perhaps obvious insistence, Wake Up Dead Man cements itself amongst the canon from which it draws inspiration. Benoit Blanc, with his superhuman eye for detail as well as his deep understanding of, and empathy for, the subjects he is investigating, becomes the manifestation of what I could only express as the love child of Poirot and Miss Marple. In an age of derivative art, where remakes have become the new norm, and originality seems to have run dry, the latest installment of the Knives Out series is a refreshing reminder that we can borrow from the past without simply recreating it. Perhaps, Agatha Christie has found a worthy afterlife in the character of Benoit Blanc and the Knives Out film series as a whole.
Wake Up Dead Man tackles topics that are at the same time evergreen and potently modern. Radicalisation, greed, faith, and the loss of tradition are put under the magnifying glass and investigated through the rawest and most primal human emotions. In many ways, the murder mystery becomes secondary to the humans the story revolves around. With Wicks’ murder, the lightning rod his followers channeled their suffering onto disappears and each one of them are confronted with the problems they have buried deep beneath the surface. The congregation is left to straggle around, leaderless and without hopes of absolution, and their attempts at harnessing their faith without their idol unleashes an all-consuming desperation that slowly chips away at every relationship – including the ones the characters have with themselves. It feels so clear that this film has so much more to say about our political climate and the nature of faith in an age of disillusionment and disenfranchisement than just being a witty, well-written whodunit.
As the movie came to a close, whispers of praise filled the air, and I can only second a sentence I overheard while exciting the theatre: Perfect setting, perfect story, perfect film.
Wake Up Dead Man is released in theatres on November 26th and will be available for streaming on Netflix from December 12th.
