THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ALICE CREED
Written & Directed by J Blakeson
Produced by Adrian Sturges
Released by Anchor Bay Films
UK. 100 min. Not Rated
With Gemma Arterton, Martin Compston & Eddie Marsan
 

The Disappearance of Alice Creed is one of those films that’s tricky to write about. Every squirm and twist in this pared-down kidnapping tale’s plot is meant to come as a surprise, and for the most part it does, so perhaps it’s best to lay out as little of the story as possible. While I usually hold with the snobbish notion that spoiler alerts are hopelessly vulgar and that any movie worth seeing can’t be ruined by knowing more about it beforehand, Disappearance buries that notion in the mud.

Safely, I can say this: somewhere in the United Kingdom, pretty Alice Creed (Gemma Arterton) is kidnapped, stripped, and tied to a bed in a padded room by two men, who hope to gain a ransom from her rich father. One, the older Vic, is a pug-faced crook (Eddie Marsan, the inspector from Sherlock Holmes), the other, Danny (Martin Compston), his bullied younger disciple.

Like any good caper flick, the movie cold-heartedly enjoys describing their exact, methodical precautions—the soundproofed room, the face masks, a makeshift bedpan for Alice to use while still tied to the bed—before their plan (unsurprisingly) kinks up. (Though for a movie that’s usually quite careful with details, Danny is given a distractingly trendy hairstyle that makes sense on a handsome young actor but not so much on a kidnapping ex-con.)

For the most part, it works, and the thriller milks a great deal of tension from its three characters, its (basically) single set, and a tiny, well-spent budget. In some respects, it actually feels like writer and director J. Blakeson, making his feature debut, designed the whole movie to flaunt how, if made smartly, a cheap, simple film can show up the gaseous Inception and the rest of the bloated, cockamamie fare polluting the screens this summer. (Disappearance came out in the U.K. earlier this year.)

But Disappearance, though fun in a nasty, brutish short sort of way, is by no means a classic. It’s actually a bit forgettable. And as it pushes along, and the surprises run out, Disappearance ends up recycling some of its dramatic situations—most absurdly, one in which a character threatens another with a gun and then listens to a heartfelt plea, instead of shooting. Which happens at least three times. Brendon Nafziger
August 6, 2010