In ‘Observer’, fear is scary | dissident

observer, a new and very good psychological thriller available on Shudder, puts the viewer in a very difficult situation. The protagonist, a lonely and formidable woman named Julia, played by the excellent Maika Monroe, is displaced to Bucharest due to her husband’s career ambitions, and begins to worry about being stalked, perhaps by a creepy neighbor who seems to be spending a lot of money. Time stares from his apartment window to hers. This was initially a minor annoyance and a sad alienation for her distracted husband, until Julia learned of a series of recently unsolved murders of young women in their part of town, and another possible assault in which the victim felt her attacker had stalked her for some time before the attack. Surprisingly locals believed there was a serial killer on the loose and dubbed him The Spider. It’s all translated from Romanian and all sorts of loosely connected, but it raises some alarm.

Much confusion and confusion stems from Julia’s unfamiliarity with Romanian culture and language. The Bucharest ride she’s had through the aimless daytime walking tours is friendly enough – smiling locals cheer her on her timid, budding attempts to communicate in their language, and are patient and accommodating when they feel it’s out of their depths – but Eastern Europe is a very long way from New York City geographically and culturally. Her new town is filthy and scattered, crumbling in places, and customs somewhat unfamiliar. It would be easy for a frightened alien to assume that he is inherently less safe. Julia seems to realize this and is determined to extend the benefit of the doubt, but she also has trouble reconciling the cases where Bucharest suddenly becomes hostile. One afternoon, you explore the interior of a stately and grandiose building, until suddenly set on fire by a security guard. Is it trespassing on the property of others? Did you break some obvious rules? Are you violating some unknown rules? Nothing in his speedy Roman book could provide any answers; All she could possibly explain was that she made a mistake, and all she could manage by corrective actions was to get the hell out of there, throwing apologies over her shoulder the way the fugitive squid released a cloud of ink.

There’s an interesting conflict here, between the rational sense of security you triangulate socially versus Gavin de Becker’s crocodile brain fear, which comes out of your subconscious to alert you that you’re in danger. Julia wants to get relief from the enthusiastic attitudes of her husband and colleagues, and feels tremendous pressure to do this, but the fear remains. When locals laugh and gossip in stinging Romanian and broken English about a potential serial killer threatening their area, is it because Bucharest is an inherently violent and dangerous place? Julia has this eccentric staring at her apartment every night, but no one seems to take it seriously, including the local police. Does this mean that overtly deviant male behavior is normal here? Or is it perhaps only bothering her in the first place because of suspected xenophobia towards foreign men? Or is it possible that in fact it is she who is staring, and the opposite man is looking back?

Julia’s husband does not help. For selfish reasons regarding his limited emotional bandwidth (which he is only too careful to disguise as a difficult parental concern for her mental health), her husband, who is fluent in Romanian, takes every opportunity to intercept, hide, and soften information related to The Spider, or related to her fears of a stalker. . Over and over in the room, he leans against the door frame, tidies up his face to express maximum love interest, and asks, “Are you okay?” no Is this crawl still in itor Who should I kick his assor even We should move to a hotel for a few nights– It’s not about Julia being stalked or that she’s having a hard time adjusting to a solitary presence in a foreign country. His dominant concern is that she be normal When he comes home from work, and his way of urging things in that direction is to make Julia think of the stalker as a problem that’s mostly in her head.

More than once Julia has gone out on a limb, and the confrontation with her potential stalker flirts with, but the impulse seems less to catch the villain red-handed and prove to herself that her husband was right all along. It would surely solve some emerging domestic problems if she simply accepted that this was all in her wild imagination, and then went back to being cool, sexy, and cool. Perhaps the sensational rumors of a serial killer make it easy for her husband to dismiss her fears of a stalker as a work of hyperactive fantasy. Julie is not necessarily suspicious that her stalker he is The Spider and part of its struggle is the expectation that it will be taken seriously even if it’s not that creep who is committing murders. Every time she returns to the window there, he watches her rudely and ominously but not illegally. And every time she talks about it, even after an annoying relative encounter during a particularly scary day around town, an arrogant man pats her on the head and tells her she’s ridiculous.

This creates a strange and interesting dynamic for you, as the viewer. Julia is at all times lonely and painfully vulnerable, it is fun to watch and her world is compressed by fear. You don’t want her to be chased after, let alone by The Spider. You want her to be safe, and so you want her to be wrong. But also, it’s silly anger To watch the people around Julia treat her like a child and deal with a near-indifference to the non-zero opportunity that has been hunted down by a serial killer. When Julia is in the world alone, you want all her fears and doubts to amount to alienation in a new and different place. But when the policeman rolls his eyes, or when her husband has the audacity to describe her growing horror as “fantasy,” you can only hope that it is. A serial killer literally attacked them, just to pity them. I’ve been left at times with this dangerous and reckless impulse to see Julia do what the authorities clearly cannot, which is to track down and arrest the culprit, get herself out of danger and prove that her fears were justified, in one silly fell swoop. It would be desperate and crazy, but it seems like her only other options are to hide forever inside her apartment or adopt some other form of self-destructive recklessness, by pretending the danger isn’t real.

There really is a surprising amount of juice in this setup. The full sense and meaning of Julia’s vulnerability is heightened when she is alone because of everything she cannot communicate with and cannot immediately comprehend, and by the increasing emotional distance that separates her from her few acquaintances, who seem determined to understand her real-life fears as a metaphor for displacement, or over-produced Estrogen. In the end, all her world contains is fear and loneliness. Its most reliable association, by far, is the eerie silhouette looming across the window. Fortunately, the movie never got into any sort of cathartic awakening but cheap, or worse yet, nonsense from coexistence. It just locks you inside someone’s world suffering from the oppressive loneliness of urban existence, the destabilizing confusion from immersion in a foreign culture, the dread and abuse from stalking, And the Get a taste of separation and parenthood on women who need their safety to be taken seriously in a world largely created by and for people who create danger.

There is a scary sight that melts the brain at the level of 80 percent of observer Where Julia had a quiet encounter on a nearly empty subway, with a person carrying a plastic shopping bag. The camera focuses unexpectedly on the shopping bag, then on Julia’s face, and then again on the shopping bag, and suddenly the contours and shadows of the crinkled plastic bag give off a kind of visual sensation, the way a 3D hologram suddenly appears. In figure if you look at him with soft eyes. The pent-up terror in Julia’s eyes tells you that she sees him, too: right there, seated right thereObscured only by perfect mundane packaging, it is the most horrific thing possible. Is it Julia’s shattered and frightening imagination, and our own, which collects and distorts input, orchestrating the benign details of a world that humbly proceeds in its works into demonstrations of paranoid fear? Or is it real? And most importantly, who would believe it if he was?

#Observer #fear #scary #dissident

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *