Enemy

Very much a mood piece, this enigmatic offering from Denis Villeneuve is set beneath a canopy of tangled streetcar lines in an oppressively foggy Toronto. Its characters are portrayed as insect-like, joylessly scurrying from one concrete tower to the next, driven solely by unexplainable instinct. Actions unfold at an uncertain, lethargic pace, while what little dialogue there is competes with a deep, droning ambience that more or less engulfs the entire movie. Think Jonathan Glazer’s Under the Skin, but without that director’s mercurial touch or his film’s jeopardous improvisation.

The Enemy is to be admired for its consistency of tone and willingness to explore emotional darkness. As far as depictions or urban alienation go, it’s pretty much unrivalled. Unfortunately, for all its allusions to totalitarianism and the concept of selfhood, this tale of a lecturer who encounters his exact double lacks depth and meaning. Audiences are unlikely to enjoy the movie, but there’s no denying its power to make them feel authentically unhappy.