Coming to DVD May 22
Cast:
Ana Claudia Talancón as Amy
Colin Hanks as Doug
Jordana Spiro as Jen
Jonathan Trent as Matt
Directed by Eric Nicholas
Review:
Eric Nicholas’ “Alone With Her” goes to places “Disturbia” does not dare tread, and it does so all within the first ten minutes even though both bear prevalent themes of obsession and voyeurism. Dare I proclaim in the face of the latter film’s rising box office draw that “Alonw” does it better? Yeah, I do. So take that, Shia LaBeouf, and say hello to Doug (a sinister side of Colin Hanks), the lonely, disturbed soul who makes this film experience uncomfortable, grim and altogether heartbreaking. Nicholas has fashioned one of the best paranoid thrillers of our time on a limited budget and a minimal cast. It’s a mesmerizing companion piece to films like the underappreciated “My Little Eye” – and most recently “Vacancy” – that comments on the technological advancements we’ve made to satiate and manipulate the human condition, furthermore, in Nicholas’ case, to provide a striking piece of cautionary entertainment. He has fashioned a tight get in-and-get out narrative that takes certain liberties yet is effective enough to overwhelm you with frustration and alarm.
Amy Ruis (the lovely Ana Claudia Talancón) is the unsuspecting victim of Doug’s affection. Petite, ambitious and even lovelier with her accent, Amy is coming off of a rough breakup and is slogging through those emotional lows of independence. The poor girl is lonely. Doug is worse off and a bit off his rocker to the extent that he discovers Amy in a park one afternoon and decides to follow and recognize her travel pattern. This bespectacled dope gets his crush on in a big way and decides to load Amy’s apartment up on hidden surveillance cameras and microphones. Subsequently, this avaricious spy checks in on her life for all of her private moments, whether it’s a shower, putting on makeup, playing with the dog or playing with herself. When she sleeps, he sleeps by his monitor in the comfort of his own apartment. When she’s away, he sneaks around her apartment, sits on her furniture, sniffs her brush handle (remember the “playing with herself part”?) and feeds her Corgi, building a familiar relationship with the canine so…
When Doug feels comfortable enough, he officially enters her life. First, as a casual coffee-buyer who Amy happens to strike up a conversation with when she notices they have similar movie rental tastes (go figure). Then his physical proximity intensifies as Amy comes to know Doug as a friend – a fella who helps her when she needs it, especially in her budding painting career. As Amy continues to see Doug as a reliable pal, he views their closeness as a potential road to romance, however, when she begins to see another man, her life delves into a series of unfortunate events – unbeknownst to her, Doug is at the center of them all. And his tactics to position himself at the forefront of her life are growing more and more extreme.
Doug’s web of exploitation and disruption nearly becomes a comedy of errors at this point as Amy’s tragedies build from mild poisoning to a fierce body-encompassing rash thanks to toxic bed sheets. Oh yes, Doug is a crafty one, but Nicholas knows when to rein in his dastardly deeds before they approach lampoon-level hilarity. He’s also careful not to destroy the buzzing anxiety and dread surrounding Amy. She is the star, after all, the focus of nearly every scene, so our sympathies for her run deep. Talancón transmits a level of bravery in her dedication to Amy – and few actresses are up to the task of baring this much of themselves, physically and emotionally. Knowing Doug has the upper-hand in every move she makes is an excruciating experience to watch due to our immediate connection to her. Hanks, meanwhile, obviously relishes this influence and this change of pace from the confused nice guy and starchy do-gooder persona we got a whiff of in “Orange County” and “King Kong,” respectively. Here, he’s an enigma; a sluggish sack of emotions with little comprehension of how to express them. Together, Hanks and Talancón’s interaction feels staged at times – it’s only when they’re apart that their intensity and realism kicks in.
Nicholas’ cinema vérité approach is powerful, fascinating and shamelessly intrusive. There is some necessary acceptance to be had on behalf of the viewer for it to all work, of course. Doug’s “coverage” of Amy’s apartment is almost too convenient, furthermore, we have to believe he has spent some time practicing and fine-tuning his stalker methods which, according to the film’s opening quote, are becoming more and more effortless – even the surveillance store clerk who sells Doug his wares says “it’s perfectly legal” to purchase the equipment. These realities established from the outset are chilling, to say the least, and to witness one scenario play out so convincingly – not to mention one that is so well-constructed – solidifies “Alone’s maximum creep-out factor.
Great horror films scare the crap out of you; they should also amplify your vigilance, take advantage of your imagination. “Alone With Her” isn’t necessarily a film loaded with visceral shocks, per se, but it exceeds in the latter, giving you good reason to perhaps gaze a little closer at your alarm clock when you hit the buzzer in the morning…or proceed suspiciously the next time a stranger is so forthcoming in his or her conversation with you.
