Elijah Wood in Grand Piano (Magnet Releasing)

It’s been a long time since Tom Selznick (Elijah Wood) has played the piano in public. He was acclaimed as a virtuoso, playing so fast and intensely as to be practically without comparison. But the last time was five years ago, and he screwed up playing a particular song by one of those composers with a long Eastern European name. He’s back to play for just one night—he thinks it’ll be his last time—and his wife (Kerry Bishé) will be in attendance. It’s a big crowd, an audience like something out of The Man Who Knew Too Much, the classic Hitchcock thriller… and no wonder. Selznick is put into a bit of a Hitchcockian quandary during his performance. Namely, a man has threatened to kill him (first via messages in his music sheets, then through a voice in an earpiece) if he doesn’t play exactly and correctly without a hitch.

Why this man is threatening death—and he also has an “assistant” behind the scenes pulling his own nefarious schemes in the form of an usher at the concert hall—is a bit complex, but it involves the piano and something in it of high value (it’s not quite a McGuffin; we know that it is a little more important than that, though it’s still “the object” in a Hitchcockian context). Yet that’s not the reason to see Grand Piano.

It’s to see first-time feature filmmaker Eugenio Mira, who previously shot the indies Timecrimes and [REC] 2. He directs with pure energy, moving his camera with confidence on a dolly or crane. (There are hand-held shots, but not so frequent as to ever make this look like a schlocky Hollywood action pic). There are some very clever, intense angles and shots, usually close-ups, sometimes with an iris-in zeroing in on Selznick’s face

And it’s to see Elijah Wood act his ass off, just on the verge of over-doing his panic and terror, and John Cusack as the voice-in-the-earpiece (perhaps more akin to Phone Booth, that Colin Farrell/Kiefer Sutherland movie with a slightly similar premise from years back). And of course, the music.

The music is one of those things that will either sell you on the film or not. One aspect that’s kind of implausible is that, for a couple of times after discovering the first messages in his sheet music, written in big red letters (you know, like BLOOD!), Selznick leaves the stage and rushes backstage to figure out what is going on. How the conductor is able to still continue without Selznick, and how the pianist is able to get back on stage and pick up exactly where he left off without a hitch, is a bit hard to swallow. But if you go with the music, it’s rousing and involves you in the action.

Of course, there is the whole meta aspect of the movie being about us, the audience. We know what is going on almost every step of the way to Selznick, who is too good to mess up but still could, possibly at any moment, while the concert audience has nary a clue. Selznick’s brother is also in the audience, and he gets involved through a bit of plot mechanics—yes, he can text as quickly as he can play the keys!—but that’s another point altogether. Grand Piano ultimately doesn’t offer anything intellectual to chew on. Rather, it’s just a series of chills and thrills. But that’s fine, especially when a director is aiming high and using the music—including, at one point, a rendition of the song “Motherless Child”—to “play” his audience as much as with the camera.

Also, one more nice thing about the film: Alex Winter. You may not remember him, but he was Bill in the inimitable Bill & Ted comedies. Seeing him here—he plays the villain’s assistant—is quite a surprise. He’s not that recognizable, and it’s a shock when he reveals himself as not the simple usher he appears to be. It’s a vicious role to play, not unlike what one might see in Hitchcock fare (think of one of the kidnappers in The Man Who Knew Too Much).