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Issue 80

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12 Issue 80 / 2015 FILM guestlist.net As messed up as the situation was, Haley Joel Osment as the cute but troubled Cole in M. Knight Shyamalan's 1999 hair- raiser The Sixth Sense, arguably got off lightly B eing constantly haunted by vividly terrifying apparitions is enough to send anyone off the edge, but as a kid - aside from all the very necessary therapy - it comes with a touch less scorn and derision. Once past the stage of ten- year-old pre-pubescence, the whole supernatural sense business shifts from purely ominous to outright maddening derangement - and the newly released low-key thriller by David Blair, The Messenger, shows just how dark and twisted carrying this burden into adulthood can become. Misfits' Robert Sheehan explores the more sinister side of supernatural abilities in adopting the role of Jack, the young man plagued by the dead and their incessant demands. Increasingly unstable and out of his mind with the pressure it brings, he is left as isolated as those he assists - his life, relationships and reputation tainted. His concerned older sister Emma's gradual reintegration into his life and the death of a renowned war correspondent, Mark, set events in motion. Played by Lily Cole, Emma moves back into town with her husband and son in tow after the former is promoted to partner in his law firm. She can't help feeling she has let Jack down, his downward spiral exacerbating in the vacuum of her absence, and is determined to be there for him - though what she sees and knows both frightens and saddens her. After he is attacked and left for dead in a dark alley, Mark (Jack Fox) wants Jack to help him bring peace to his grieving widow Sarah, now left alone with no answers for his shocking murder. On separate but interconnected levels, Jack has to deal with the scrutiny that comes with his sister's reappearance, the painful reminders of his childhood that this brings (a dysfunctional mother and a dead father), and the persistence of Mark's presence urging him to talk to look out for Sarah. Understandably, these experiences have shaped him quite significantly. Jack is a witty individual with a countering sarcastic retort for every remark. He's clearly not coping - he spends most of the film in the same raggedy outfit looking unwashed and homeless, his pokey flat is strewn with empty beer bottles and there's rent due, plus he's frequently unable to keep a subtle lid on his interaction with the ghosts, instead bursting into fits of agitated passion. But he is surviving, with his instinct for acerbity likely having gotten him this far. At the same time, part of you can't help wondering whether part of the problem is that Jack can't help himself; however miserable they make him, he is compelled to follow through with the demands of the dead. Something about Robert Sheehan in this role wakes you up again to just how good he is. He's adept at playing many hands - the comedian, the depressive, the unhinged, the realist - sometimes all at once. There are moments where he goes off on relentless rants talking almost simultaneously to the viewer, his psychiatrist and himself. His fast-paced walking, jerky bodily movements and direct aims at the camera split across time frames are almost unsettling and this, in combination with the shifting terrains, gives it a certain incoherence - like a sprawling visual representation of his insides. When he's really off the rails, Sheehan fully goes in for the kill and it's in these displays that the film's best and most electrifying moments are created. However, it is sometimes hard to tell whether the unanswered questions about Mark's death and whether Jack actually sees the things he does or just believes so are ultimately evidence of a fresh sense of realism or the hint of a faltering plotline. As vital as the scenes of his childhood are to understanding how Jack became the young man we see him as, the absence of a steady build in urgency risks stunting the pace of his story and, consequently, certain moments inbetween Sheehan's explosive breakdowns are left slightly underwhelming and stifled to an extent by a lack of spark. But if this is down to the upholding of its slow-burning thriller status while refusing to play into the hands of a traditional formula then it is an admirable realisation. Capped by a chilling endnote, the lack of polish has the makings of sobering and thoughtful drama. The Messenger

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