Gemma Arterton plays the title role in The Disappearance of Alice Creed. (AP Photo/David Oxberry, Anchor Bay FilmsDavid Oxberry/The Associated Press
The Disappearance of Alice Creed
- Written and directed by J Blakeson
- Starring Eddie Marsan, Gemma Arterton and Martin Compston
- Classification 14A
With elaborate care, silently, as if a single word might betray their plans, two men construct a hideaway at the edge of an unnamed English city. We see them hammering. Measuring boards. Installing sound-proof walls and massive locks. Donning hoods, the duo kidnap a young woman, returning her kicking and screaming to their secret lair, where she is gagged and strapped to a bed.
Afterward, the older of the two men contacts the girl's millionaire father.
First-time feature director J Blakeson indicates his fascination with the whirr and grind of plot mechanics early on. The kidnappers' precise handling of tools is a preview of how the filmmaker handles the nuts and bolts of storytelling. The Disappearance of Alice Creed is a Spartan story: There are only three characters, Alice and her abductors, and for most of the film, there's a single set - the victim's holding cell.
Nevertheless, the best Brit noir since Croupier is a complex, marvellously twisty thriller. It's soon apparent that we're in for something other than a straight kidnapping: Vic (Eddie Marsan), the ruthless older man and the brains behind the crime, shouts too much. And he's always changing and throwing away clothes, as if trying to remove his own skin. Partner Danny (Martin Compston), a lazily handsome younger man, drinks excessively and regards the hostage with undisguised sentiment.
Then there is Alice (Gemma Arterton), who is dangerously beautiful and smart - too much the femme fatale to take a kidnapping lying down.
What happens next, who ends up with the £2-million ransom, makes for an exciting race, with the lead changing several times as every competitor makes the mistake of underestimating and letting up on their opponent. Better still, we're never sure who to hope for: Eddie Marsan's bully becomes more sympathetic once we understand his need. And neither Danny nor Alice are as pretty as they seem.
Blakeson relieves the relentless pressure with sly, unexpected humour. The best comic bit here is a lost, stray bullet that materializes on the floor - a glaring intrusion in Vic's carefully controlled environment - and then has to be swallowed and digested twice by a luckless, weak-stomached conspirator.
Alice Creed's obvious reference point is Sleuth, the old who's-doing-what with Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine in the film version. Except director Blakeson is a lot less talky and takes a greater interest in visual design. His film's denouement takes place in a forest that would seem to have been lifted, tree by tree, from the Coen Brothers' Miller's Crossing.
And unlike many filmmakers who make movies to take pictures, Blakeson is interested in his players. His three principals deliver convincingly messy, ambiguous performances. What makes the film so interesting is that there are three characters, but at least six personalities on screen.
Two of those belong to Arterton ( Quantam of Solace), who can turn from wounded innocent to wanton seductress on a dime. She has a chance of becoming a big star.