Plot twist makes for ‘Identity’ crisis
“The Sixth Sense” and “The Usual Suspects” definitely upped the ante
for modern plot twists. But these movies were also compelling from
start to finish, their jaw-dropping revelations merely icing on the
cake.
In the aftermath of those pictures comes a project like “Identity,”
which sacrifices a fine cast and an atmospheric setting to spring a
surprise that derails the momentum. Worse, the frustrating twist
isn’t unleashed at the conclusion; it happens near the middle.
There is a tide of talent involved with this latest effort from
filmmaker James Mangold (“Girl, Interrupted”). It’s too bad all their
efforts are ultimately sold out at the expense of some mind-game
malarkey.
In “Identity,” 10 strangers come together at an off-the-highway motel
(think Bates Motel) in a forsaken part of the American Southwest.
Torrential rains have flooded all roads, stranding the travelers
along with a fidgety night manager (John Hawkes). Furthermore, the
storm has knocked out the phones.
Among the parties is a limo driver named Ed (John Cusack as the
nominal hero), who is escorting a fading movie star (Rebecca De
Mornay). Others include a cop (Ray Liotta) transferring a prisoner
(Jake Busey), a Las Vegas hooker (Amanda Peet) making her way to
Florida, a family of three and a newlywed couple.
Almost immediately a grisly murder occurs. As the participants
confront their suspicions over “whodunit,” various skeletons in each
of their respective closets begin to emerge. And it’s revealed that
each share a major connection of which none are aware.
Meanwhile in a parallel story line, a psychiatrist (Alfred Molina) is
lobbying the governor for a stay of execution for his mass-murdering
patient.
Somehow there’s a connection …
Mangold and writer Michael Cooney (who previously penned the immortal
“Jack Frost 2: Revenge of the Mutant Killer Snowman”) conquer half
the battle of a thriller by crafting an appropriately eerie setting.
“Identity” was shot almost entirely on a vast Los Angeles sound stage
because of the challenge of filming in perpetual rain. The artifice
of the environment makes it that much more suggestive of a nightmare.
As the mounting sensation of being trapped and helpless affects the
group, mundane objects within the motel – clothes dryers, shower
curtains, vending machines, fluorescent lights – even take on a
threatening demeanor.
Then questions start to linger as the body count begins to rise.
Why is only one officer involved in a hazardous prisoner transfer?
What’s the deal with each character’s name?
How could corpses disappear?
While clues to the film’s punchline may be easy to spot on a second
viewing, they are obscured by the numerous red herrings tossed in
(the durable “Indian burial ground” ploy, for instance) to disguise
the real culprit behind this slasher/psychological thriller.
At one point, Peet’s prostitute is so unnerved by the bewildering
events she screams into the night, “I give up.” It’s an amusing
moment, since the action echoes the audience’s sentiments.
Unfortunately, her phrase takes on another meaning. It also connotes
the filmmakers’ inability to capitalize on a juicy setup, instead
opting to turn the story on its head rather than devising a
satisfying linear conclusion. A movie can’t expect the viewer to
continue caring about its characters once it has established those
people aren’t tangible components.
“Identity” gives up its own identity in a quest to dazzle the audience.