THE MACHINIST UK BluRay review

So much has been written about the two main talking points in The Machinist it bears mentioning there's more to the film than either of them. True, Brad Anderson's twisting psychological thriller is (initially at least) a puzzle to unravel, and Christian Bale's physical commitment to his role represents a jaw-dropping effort on the actor's part.

But the plot's not half as dense as it appears, and Bale's performance is much deeper than just a convenient visual motif. The Machinist is a dark, impressively textured little fable, the kind of classical morality play that doesn't get made nearly enough. It's arguably the queasy, disorienting mood swings - from wistful pathos to shrieking tension and back - plus the gorgeous cinematography that stick with you, not the twist or the lurching skeleton in the lead.

Bale plays Trevor Reznick, the factory worker of the title whose life is on the verge of falling apart. He has no commitments beyond eating at the same lonely airport coffee bar, night after night. His only friend is Stevie (Jennifer Jason Leigh), the prostitute he regularly solicits and he hasn't slept in a year, leaving him wasted and decrepit.

He seems to be drifting into full-on mania when a mysterious new employee appears at the plant and indirectly causes a tragic accident. Neither the other workers nor their management think the new arrival exists, but he's haunting Reznick's every move, plus jeopardising his friendship with Stevie and tentative relationship with Marie, the waitress at the airport. Has Trevor tipped over the edge or is there more to this than there first appears to be?

Bale is unquestionably the centre of the film from the moment he first appears on screen. His appearance is certainly genuinely horrifying (he lost over sixty pounds to prepare) and sells the premise in a way no makeup or CG ever could. Yet part of the terrible attraction Bale projects stems from his restless, twitching mannerisms, slurred speech and general air of imminent collapse as much as his physical ruin. It elicits a strange, hesitant empathy. Reznick's evidently a good person, at least to some extent, so why would anyone want to do these things to him?

Anderson works his way up to the twist mercilessly slowly, building effectively on the promise of his debut, Session 9. The Machinist is visually entrancing, in a fairly horrible way. DoP Xavi Giménez alternates between cold blue filters and arid, baking hot sunlight. Everything is either sweaty with grime or bleached of all vitality. The film was actually shot in Spain - no US studio wanted to back something so nihilistic - but despite minor visual gaffes it's still steeped in the despairing fug of rundown Americana.

The major annoyance, then, is the realisation a lot of this careful staging and narrative smoke and mirrors is arguably somewhat misplaced. The big reveal is a fairly solid one, thematically satisfying, and the pacing credibly handled, but in general the way the story progresses is nothing like as unexpected as writer Scott Kosar would probably like to think.

It never derails the film - predictable or not, the twist carries an air of grim inevitability that feels dramatically appropriate - but most of the plot points are fairly obvious from some time before they actually arrive. Anderson's direction still keeps up enough of a feeling of uncertainty even the cynical viewer may not be able to stop themselves asking questions, but many will get precisely the answers they expected.

And occasionally the classical Hollywood trappings don't quite work. There are times where Roque Baños' score feels a little too rousing, weirdly out of kilter with the hopelessness on screen. Some of the visual language the film employs is too simplistic, too raw, leading to moments where those things which are real feel too real for anyone to ignore and where those which aren't seem too far-fetched to believe in.

But again, none of this ever sours the atmosphere the film establishes. Anderson and his crew convey a haunting, unsettling feeling of sickness and decay both within and without, where the setting is as listless and uneasy as the characters who inhabit it. The climax comes as a terrible relief, however predictable the viewer might find it - it's certainly been done before, but nothing springs to mind with anything like Christian Bale's performance as the linchpin.

Touting The Machinist as a mystery does it a disservice. It's less about working out precisely what's going on and more about the sickly, voyeuristic rush that comes from watching what you're convinced must be someone going through the final stages of losing their mind. (But is it?) The aesthetics may seem purely cosmetic, but they're a key part of the effect, much more than simple miserablism or emotional manipulation.

You don't piece this film together, you sit through it and shiver as it comes to pieces around you, and when it finally ends you feel pity for the lead, not frustration, that he couldn't see what seemed so obvious to you.

The BluRay:

Palisades Tartan's UK BluRay of The Machinist repeats many of the extras from what was already a fairly feature-rich DVD and gives the film a wonderful visual presentation. The picture is hugely impressive; there's some intentional level of grain, and a little softness in some scenes, but for the most part it only accentuates the look the film has of some impeccably produced coffee-table photobook on the decline of the American mid-west or some similar subject. Colour balance is excellent - some scenes are so dark as to obscure background detail, but again, this is largely on purpose.

Menus are simple, and a little slapdash, but easy enough to navigate. The film is divided into sixteen chapter stops. The audio track is clean and clear through a basic stereo 2.0 setup, with dialogue always perfectly audible and the string parts on the score notably sharp and crisp.

The main special feature is Brad Anderson's commentary track. The director sounds almost as tired as his star in places, but he goes into a good amount of relatively interesting detail about the production and doesn't resort to describing the action too often. It's not essential listening but complements the film fairly well. The twenty-five minute Making Of is a typical made for TV puff piece, irritatingly shot and scored, though possibly worth watching for the fascination of seeing Bale's skeletal physique on set, reminding you yes, it's not some elaborate special effect.

The original trailer makes the film seem far more confusing than it really is and could arguably put more people off than interest them. The interview with Anderson shot for the DVD is also included, with twenty-five minutes of the director talking to camera, answering questions displayed on intertitles. There are eight alternate and deleted scenes, two with commentary, presenting different takes on key moments or story beats which would clearly have only made the twist all the more obvious ahead of time.

The biggest problem, and a reason not to buy the disc for many, is the disappointing lack of any subtitles for either the feature, the commentary or the extras. It's an annoying, and somewhat callous omission given Palisades Tartan presumably didn't feel they'd gain enough sales by including them.

The Machinist was definitely hurt to some degree by being tagged as a bewildering head-scratcher of a film when it was anything but, and by Christian Bale's role when a lot of people were too eager to sensationalise his dedication. It's still a great movie, one which makes the disappointment of Brad Anderson's awful follow-up Transsiberian all the more acute. The relative simplicity of its script doesn't detract from the fantastic production values, haunting atmospherics and the efforts of its cast. Palisades Tartan's BluRay is a creditable improvement on their earlier DVD, and if you can overlook the absence of subtitles comes highly recommended.

(Thanks go to Palisades Tartan for facilitating this review.)