Though its antecedents date back to classic hardboiled noir, the erotic thriller reached its peak in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Offering a blend of suspense, romance, and shameless titillation, films like Fatal Attraction and Basic Instinct pitted a morally compromised male lead (often Michael Douglas) against a dangerous femme fatale, to varying degrees of success. One-dimensional characterization, recycled plot elements, and declining production values all conspired to do the genre in. A quarter century later, and there is no shortage of films that tackle infidelity, passion, betrayal and murder, thematic elements that were once the purview of erotic thrillers. But these contemporary films distinguish themselves in several ways: they have a literary pedigree, they allow for some more nuanced (or at least more ambiguous) characterization, and they aspire to be something more than seedy entertainment. Call them unerotic thrillers.
Gone Girl is perhaps among the best – and best known – of this lot, but it does not lack for company. The Girl on the Train and Nocturnal Animals, both 2016 releases, can also be classed as part of the subgenre. Both feature heroines in the aftermath of marriages doomed by affairs who find themselves connected to murders. Despite these similarities (and those to Gone Girl), however, they make for very different viewing experiences.
In The Girl on the Train, an adaptation of Paul Hawkins’s bestseller, the title role refers to Rachel (Emily Blunt), a depressed, divorced, unemployed alcoholic who spends her days aimlessly riding a train and envying both her ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux) and his new family as well as local couple Scott (Luke Evans) and Megan (Haley Bennett), whom she sees as perfect. But when Megan goes missing, Rachel goes from observer to active participant, both as a suspect and later as Scott’s ally. This involvement draws the suspicion of Tom’s wife, Anna (Rebecca Ferguson), who already sees Rachel as dangerously unstable.
In book form, The Girl on the Train succeeded in utilizing alternating multiple perspectives to develop characterization and build tension. Readers’ impressions of a character were shaped by one point of view only to be complicated by another. Unfortunately, this technique did not translate well to screen, and in place we are left with poorly paced, muddled melodrama. While Gone Girl, which utilized similar alternating perspectives, also suffered in translation, David Fincher was a sufficiently accomplished stylist and found other ways to imbue intrigue. The same cannot be said for The Girl on the Train’s Tate Taylor, whose direction seems adrift. Swapping settings – New York in for London – didn’t help matters either, nor did Americanizing much of the cast. The one improvement over the source material is Blunt’s take on Rachel, transforming the book’s irksomely pathetic sad sack (at least in the early chapters) into a still-troubled but more capable protagonist.
Nocturnal Animals, an adaptation of Austin Wright’s Tony and Susan, draws its name from a book within the film. Susan (Amy Adams), an art gallery owner with a philandering husband, unexpectedly receives a manuscript from her ex-husband Edward (Jake Gyllenhaal). The book concerns Tony (also Gyllenhaal), who is run off the road in Texas by local thug Ray (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and two accomplices. After they leave him stranded and rape and murder his wife and daughter, he and a dedicated detective (Michael Shannon) see to it that justice is served. Reading the manuscript unnerves Susan and prompts her to reflect on her relationship with Edward, which ended acrimoniously.
Director Tom Ford is a fashion designer by trade, so it isn’t surprising that Nocturnal Animals is a good-looking film. For instance, The bright hues of the Texas outdoors contrast with the pristine sterility of a Los Angeles gallery. What is more surprising, however, is that Nocturnal Animals is as narratively sound as it is. A story-within-a-story is inherently gimmicky, and the manuscript story, though presented as powerful, is also rather familiar: think a touch of Straw Dogs (emasculated man pushed too far) mixed with half a dozen revenge thrillers. And yet it takes on quite a bit of added significance when read as a metaphor for Susan and Edward’s relationship. The film also boasts some strong performances, including Taylor-Johnson as a charismatic creep and Gyllenhaal and Adams showcasing a variety of moods to suit the flashbacks to different stages of their relationship. That said, while it makes sense for her character in the main story’s present-day to be somewhat checked out, Susan’s dialogue early on is conspicuously expository, and Adams’ delivery conspicuously flat. Armie Hammer is also one-dimensionally loathsome as Susan’s current husband and even comes with the face-punchingly snobbish name of Hutton. Still, Nocturnal Animals is a deftly constructed film, even if it could have used a bit more emotional heft.
The Girl on the Train: 6.25/10
Nocturnal Animals: 7.75/10
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