Who (or who), mentioned in Antoine Fukuya’s exciting new Netflix thriller, is adapted from the 2018 Danish movie of the same name? The title is certainly important, as the “Training Day” director put it. In fact, Fuku is a nerve-wracking, adrenaline-rush crisis-management movie that makes a valuable little change in a beautiful direct remake, which makes abduction more complicated than the limited perspective of a conflicting emergency service. Phone operator
Moved from Copenhagen to Los Angeles, where it was exposed to a huge wildfire outbreak, “The Guilty” by Jake Gillenhall and no one else. (Riley Keough, Paul Dano, and Ethan Hawke give their voices, but it’s Gyllenhaal’s big blue eyes that we see for the better part of 90 minutes.) That’s more than the adaptation satisfaction of the high-concept hook Fuqua: Joe plays Baylor, a policeman who has resigned from temporarily patrolling the streets to answer calls to the 911 contact center.
While other operators do their adequate, professional best work, Joe goes above and beyond. If a cat gets stuck in a tree, you can imagine that he is sending the whole fire department to rescue him (and don’t forget, they’re busy dealing with the blazing fire on the TV news screen that makes up one of its walls) otherwise nondescript boiler room) , Or otherwise transfer the call to his iPhone and drive there to drive himself. You see, you can’t wish that U-Ayat phone operators were this dedicated instead of holding on for 45 minutes and still failing to solve your problem.
Joe wants to work, and being stuck at a desk doesn’t stop him from looking for bad guys. Make no mistake: this is an action movie, even if the action is largely confined to Joe’s fingertips: the way he picks up the phone in panic, the speed-dial buttons he presses to ring the California Highway Patrol or the Los Angeles Police Department. His numbers are constantly fluctuating. As Joe, Gyllenhaal sweats, she swears, she furrows her eyebrows and flexes her arms. You seem to be watching her face, but her triceps are also acting – or Confusing, As may be the case. If screenwriter Nick Pizzolato could have figured out a way to take off Joe’s shirt, he would have.
But “The Guilty” is a faithful retweet of director Gustav Mueller’s calling-card debut, a breakout of the 2018 Sundance Film Festival that was selected as Denmark’s submission (and later shortlisted) at the Oscar International Feature Competition. The project originated as part of a rigorous writing: a solo single-position stunt that puts us in a high-pressure position of hearing but it doesn’t see a disturbing domestic abuse situation. It starts with a great call from a kidnapped woman (here, Emily of Queuez) pretending to talk to her 6-year-old daughter and allowing both sides of our conversation to be heard, turning a completely white fake scene between us into imagination
The less visitors know about the twist of the store, the better. Like “Burial” or “Search”, the movie makes the most of its limitations. But the way Gilenhall runs it has a big miscalculation, which is different from the “stay calm and continue” energy of Jacob Cedargren’s performance in the previous film. Fuqua communicates this not as a business-normal 911 call but as a full-life-or-death emergency. Los Angeles may shine in the background, but Joe Bailer has chosen a significant deal to end the “24” season with the abduction.
Why is he so committed to solving this particular crisis? Why does he insist when talking to Emily’s daughter, to tell the worried girl that the police “protect people”? Remember the movie’s title is “Guilty,” and Fuku doubles down on the idea that Joe’s conscience is restless and that this job – heck, this call – could make a difference in the decision to appear in court where he is supposed to appear. The next day.
Society needs police, it seems to be saying the politically appointed subtext of the film, but what if the social contract is broken? (For a moment, Joe thinks the Black Lives Matter protest on TV and looks at the burning squad car.) Yes, the police are supposed to help people, but sometimes they don’t – often willing to admit the system. And how will they regain the confidence of the people when they happen? Best intentions aside, maybe Joe Baylor isn’t a clear cut hero cop. Maybe Emily’s emergency isn’t as easy as it sounds.
Like the character of Jean Hackman in Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Conversation” – a sound engineer who invents a broad conspiracy theory surrounding a couple of words spoken by the couple – Joe can explain his situation according to his own agenda, how he can react to free himself. To be heard. It’s a complex twist to your typical police movie, bringing the levels to “The Guilty” which makes it more than just a special episode of “CSI”. Gilenhall became deeply involved with the character, who was as oppressed as the Flash character who starred in “Velvet Bajso” and “Nightcrowler.”
Gyllenhaal’s impressive, but “guilty” could almost certainly be more effective if she had dialed a little intensity. We see Joe being wounded like this, and we don’t think, “Oh, some cops really take their role seriously” – we think, “This guy is emotional.” Even with his hands tied to the work at this desk, Joe can still get his police friends to open the door and order the road to be closed. One of those young men in the military, like remote-controlled deadly drones halfway around the world, has gained more power than he can comprehend. And the idea that all the excitement of this one night could lead him to call his own life just pushed the imagination one step further.