“Surge” Loss of consciousness is always a tragedy, but the loss of consciousness amidst the city’s magnificent apathy often gives movies about mental decay an additional grist. Films like Martin Scorsese’s “Taxi Driver” and William Lustig’s “Maniac” are not limited to sad, scary lotions in their center; they also talk in detail about anyone on their way who dismisses warning signs or is too caught up in the hustle and bustle of care.
Surge: Movie Review
Aniel Karia’s “Surge” enters this particular cinematic series but, apart from Ben Whishaw’s shocking performance, he seems to be refusing to step aside. “Surge” captures the fall of the main character but escapes the catharsis, judgment, or context. Karia’s film stays in the moment and no matter how hard it seems, the moment passes.
Whishaw plays the role of Joseph, who works hard at a day job at British Airport Security, beating down passengers whenever a hand-held bomb explodes, humiliating everyone involved, and never finding anything worthy of the trouble. It’s easy for her to sign up with her co-workers, who eat her birthday cake, and she wonders where her birthday is. Her neighbor is undoubtedly repairing the car in her engine and ours, and her parents are angry, lonely, and not at all sad.
It’s only a matter of time before Joseph explodes, but Whishaw is an attractive performer even if everything is left unspoken. Eyes drooping, feet swaying, Joseph doesn’t look like a zombie. You look like a dead man. He is an active flesh shell. Whishaw is a notable character who often adds intelligence and empathy to his characters, and to see him deprived of anything visible is a person within himself.
Unfortunately, “in itself” is all we have to continue in “Surge.” Co-written by Karia, Rupert Jones, and Rita Kalnejais, the film does not carry the audience through the backstory. Just a short argument with a disturbed airport man, who knows Joseph and tells the life our character is trying to put behind him, giving any kind of code key. The group stripped the “Surge” of its ability to be global while at the same time failing to provide the additional details needed to give the film the most precise specifications.
After a painful visit to his parents’ home, Joseph had everything he could stand on his own, and within 24 hours, he was on the verge of collapse from panic attacks to complete dementia. He falls for work, calls on the public to question the safety of the theater, and leaves his position to solve the low-level work of his colleague, Lily (Jasmine Jobson, “Toy Boy”), who then turned to Kafkaesque for the stupid fashion that carries and, ultimately, criminal robbery.
Undeterred, Joseph continues to wander around the city doing whatever he likes, which is rarely violent but almost devastating. There is no denying that it is a satisfying journey for the character, and Whishaw clearly enjoys the opportunity to mix everything that is like fit. It is a show of a good character who deserves every chance to show that he can get it, and was initially withdrawn but eventually had the high-profile film Stuart Bentley supporting all of Whishaw’s plays.
Watching the story play out in the distance, however, all of Joseph’s beats are more satisfying than his pressure. He is able to communicate with Lily briefly, and eventually has a precious exchange with his patient mother Joyce (Ellie Haddington, “Enola Holmes”), but much of the film’s performance is devoted to her unusual and unstable behavior. He doesn’t seem to be doing it in terms of principles or social criticism, inappropriate or otherwise – he is just doing what he feels is right.
“Climbing” seems to suggest that we all, at some point, would like to avoid public rituals and just do and/or take what we want, perhaps even separating a hotel room or two. (Surge) And maybe there is a real nugget in that, but often it would be the beginning of a conversation rather than an end to it.
Joseph’s journey may be short-lived, but in the end, it is worthless and sad. The character has little effect on his country and does little to spark conversations without it, without the immeasurable insight into the brilliance of Whishaw’s fascinating performance. Surge movie.