. . . nothing short of a masterpiece.

When the FBI, led by Peter Novak (Vince Vaughn), finally locate mass murderer Carl Stargher (Vincent D’Onofrio), they are met with a dilemma: One of his captives is still unaccounted for and Stargher has recently slipped into a coma. After finding video footage of the killer’s last victim, the FBI realize that they have only 40 hours to find the girl or she will die. Enter Catharine Deane (Jennifer Lopez), whose breakthrough psychotherapy allows her to enter the minds of her patents via virtual reality. Will Deane be able to survive entering into a serial killer’s uninhibited dream world and return, not only unscathed, but with the information she seeks and, at that, in time?

Sadly, many critics unconscionably thrust their expectations upon Tarsem Singh’s film as opposed to taking it in and then accessing what they had just witnessed. As such, this hybrid of Jonathan Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs, Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street, and Wachowski Brothers’ The Matrix is indeed the rarest of rare breeds: a science fiction psychological thriller which meets the credentials of both genres, but–when unfairly viewed as strictly a serial killer bio–the product still manages to hold its weight. Perhaps the naysayers have been so conditioned on what to look for in respect to what makes a serial killer narrative good, they failed to notice the fact that the director had not only bent the rules, but had rewritten them entirely.

Many complain that there is no character development in the feature as the harrowing visuals take precedence. However, if one only looks at the traditional manner in which such a transition takes place–in a story’s protagonist(s)–then, yes, The Cell fails. But such unjustly eschews the fact that Singh’s killer learns to finally open up, something which he was never allowed to do during his life and which was largely the reason for his bloodlust. Another possible reason critics dislike the film is the manner in which Singh gets under his audience’s skin. He does so by literally filming the proverb that, to catch a killer, one must think like him. Aside from depicting both parties sharing consciousnesses, Singh ever-so-subtly suggests that there exists a developmental connection between Stargher, Deane, and Novak as he parallels this through the real world’s architecture and aura being just slightly off kilter (which is further aided by the camera work during such scenes) . . . just as in a dream.

Granted, the motive for Stargher’s homicidal rage is trite, but such–as many reviewers obviously thought–is not the focus of the picture. Instead, it the springboard for the feature’s masterstroke: How a killer views himself. The filmmaker achieves this by twisting the thumbscrews of the stereotypical serial killer plot by having his murder exit Stage Left early on and replacing him with the assassin’s mind. Using this venue, Singh paves the way for the creation of one of the most devastating visions of terror ever set to screen as Stargher posits himself as nothing less than God. By using Jungian imagery by way of the artwork of Damien Hirst, Odd Nerdrum, and H.R. Giger, we are forced to consider the horrifying fact that serial killers may well be in complete control of their faculties.

Frequent David Cronenberg collaborator Howard Shore does his own fair share in contributing to The Cell’s haunting atmosphere as rookie screenwriter Mark Protosevich makes us seriously doubt whether he has not been writing under a penname for decades and if he is perhaps the culpable party for countless works of genius.

Considering the girth of the story, the experience of its team members, and the motive for Tarsem Singh being hired (he was part of the music video-to-feature length film movement alongside Spike Jonze and Mark Romanek), it is amazing that anything of value is found within The Cell. However, due to the director’s aptitude to execute an exacting, complete vision, what exists is one of the most breathtaking, daunting, mind-blowing looks at the psychology of the serial killer ever set to screen, as well as a refreshing reminder of what cinema’s palette has to offer.

-Egregious Gurnow