STOKER

On the day of her eighteenth birthday, India Stoker learns of her father Richard's sudden death caused by a car accident. For the man's funeral, Charlie, Richard's younger brother, whom India did not know about, arrives and settles in the family home. After an initial antipathy that leads the girl to stay away from the charming uncle, India gradually begins to feel strangely attracted to the man, as does her mother. But beyond the rumors surrounding the Stoker family's reputation, a series of unsettling deaths and disappearances now seem to be connected to Richard's death and Charlie's arrival. How many times has cinema used a story tinged with red and black, that is, blood and darkness, to tell us in a more or less metaphorical way about the protagonist's transition from adolescence to adulthood? Many times, you will think... and if we narrow the circle to focus these generational transitions on the protagonist's sexual maturation? Well, the figures don't change much, and we always find ourselves facing a considerable number of stories on film. "Stoker" simply adds to the pile, telling the morbid story of this girl in the midst of a hormonal storm who unleashes all her dark side... but "Stoker" stands out from the crowd, it knows how to do it with tenacity and force and shines there in the middle leaving a deep mark in the heart and mind of the viewer. Because "Stoker" has a distinctive feature and this distinctive feature is called Park Chan-wook. South Korean, highly appreciated by critics and audiences both at home and abroad, especially thanks to the now mythical revenge trilogy ("Mr. Vendetta," "Old Boy," "Lady Vendetta"), Park Chan-wook is called to debut with an American production film, as often happens and has happened to many of his colleagues. But as rarely happens, Park Chan-wook manages to bring all his poetic sensibility and above all the power and visual elegance that distinguish his works into a "commissioned" film. "Stoker" is like a dance, a choreographic film in which every single scene is of incredible directorial complexity, behind every shot there is evident work of construction and syncretism, starting from the images that scroll with freeze-frames on the opening credits. The director's hand is immediately noticeable, it flutters in numerous stylistic shots that could also seem excessive, but undeniably make a real difference and give the film a specific identity. The subject itself is not innovative, as mentioned at the beginning, because we are told a story of family mysteries, murders, and sexual maturation through the language of Hitchcockian thriller, hence a well-worn combination that the unsuspecting Wentworth Miller, known primarily as an actor for the series "Prison Break" and for portraying Chris Renfield in "Resident Evil: Afterlife," skillfully scripts, paying much attention to the psychological delineation of the characters and the construction of the plot twists that, although not surprising, arrive punctually and effectively. In the end, one gets the sensation of watching an acidic and classy version of "The Stepfather," with particular attention to the metamorphosis that the character of India Stoker undergoes during the story, brilliantly portrayed by a talented and captivating Mia Wasikowska ("Alice in Wonderland"), a dormant demon of death and lust, effectively depicted as a teen-outsider, victim, and perpetrator at the same time. A girl in conflict with herself (the repression of sexual impulse), with the outside world (schoolmates, Uncle Charlie) and the one closest to her (her mother Nicole Kidman, with whom she becomes a rival in love). In "Stoker," a curious title that seems to wink at the call of blood with the inevitable association with the well-known Bram, inventor of Dracula, there are also strong moments, such as the scene of the broken neck or the bloody ending, which give it a decidedly sui generis appearance, so elegant in form and with dilated rhythms, but also damnably pregnant with exploitative desire. For his American debut, Park Chan-wook crafts, therefore, an excellent compromise between form and content, as classic in narrative structure as madly stylish and visionary in staging... and hits the mark!