Film Diary 2015: The Voices

However, perhaps with the help of certain A-List casting, her latest film has seen wider distribution. Though with a darkly comic concept, a strange visual sensibility, and a warped viewpoint, it's probably not going to garner the same kind of accalim and popularity as Satrapi's blistering cinematic debut.

Jerry (Ryan Reynolds) works a packing job at a bathtub manufacturers, harbouring a crush on accountant Fiona (Gemma Arterton) and naively ignorant of her co-worker Lisa's (Anna Kendrick) affections for him. However, Jerry has a secret, he's receiving counselling for a childhood trauma, and his psycho-therapist Dr. Warren (Jacki Weaver) is concerned that he isn't sticking to his medication.

Without his meds Jerry doesn't feel so alone, because he has the company of his two pets, Mr. Whiskers the cat and Bosco the dog. More disturbingly, Jerry hears both animals talk to him, Bosco is a sympathetic, adorable lump and Whiskers is a malevolent, cynical and potentially violent enabler. Reynolds provides both animal's voices and does a great job, with Bosco suitably jowly and sweet-natured, whilst Whiskers sounds like Scottish actor Ken Stott at his most villainous.

After being stood up on a proposed date with Fiona, circumstances conspire to find the two of them driving along a country road, involved in an accident and then Jerry accidentally stabs her. Less of an accident are his attempts to dispose of the evidence in tuppaware containers, whilst keeping her severed head in his fridge. Sure enough though, Fiona's head starts talking to Jerry as well (this time retaining Arterton's voice, though it would've been interesting to have heard Reynold's version of that!), alternating between heightened plummy devotee to being just as demanding of care as his pets.

Now that the flood-gates are open Jerry has to wrestle with his demons, just as his relationship with Lisa begins to look like it might just be the thing that can save him.

Whilst on the one hand this is a neat, twisted concept for an off-beat black comedy that takes a wry look at the trope of "fridging" female characters in a literal and humourous way, the film suffers from not quite being as funny, thoughtful or provocative as it strives to be. It's pleasant, which, for a film about a psychopath debating whether or not he's becoming a serial killer with a cat, a dog and a disembodied head, just isn't good enough.

There's the bones of a great film here, with a solid visual style, a great performance by Reynolds and a very likable one by Kendrick, however only in the film's final moments does it suddenly make the leap into the uniquely bizarre territory one had hoped for from the off. If things had been ramped up to an extreme early on then maybe this would have worked, but, sadly, it's a peculiar amusement that might perhaps earn a small cult following just for the inherent oddness of its concept.

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