Unhinged Is as Blunt and Incomprehensible as the Violence It Depicts

Unhinged opens in US theaters today, August 21, 2020.

That may seem more like a closing line than an opener, but it’s important that you keep this information in mind while reading the review. Because Unhinged is only coming to theaters—no video-on-demand availability whatsoever. So for the immediate weeks, the question is not “Should you watch Unhinged?” but “Should you go to a movie theater during a deadly pandemic to watch Unhinged?”

Short answer: no. Read on for the longer answer, but, as with this grim action-thriller itself, subtlety will be in short supply.

Caren Pistorius as Rachel in Unhinged. Skip Bolden/Solstice Studios and Ingenious Media

After an opening scene previews the blunt and inscrutable violence we can expect from the rest of the film, we jump into a montage-style opening credits sequence made up of video and audio “news clips” (it’s unclear whether they’re from real news segments). Here are a few things the montage implies might be root causes of the type of violence in this movie: Monday mornings, traffic congestion, job loss generally, police job loss specifically, social media, rudeness, infidelity, inequality, increasing gas prices, and people stealing Amazon packages from doorsteps. Most of these things are not part of the movie, but the movie wants you to keep them in mind.

Or maybe the movie just wants to heighten your anxiety before introducing you to Rachel (Caren Pistorius). Rachel’s life is very stressful—she’s in the middle of a messy divorce, her business is struggling, her mom is unhappy in her assisted living home, and she’s chronically late bringing her teenage son, Kyle (Gabriel Bateman), to school. On top of all that, she’s stuck in traffic. Could this day get any worse? Of course it could: a stranger at a stoplight (Russell Crowe, credited simply as “the Man”) could take issue with how loudly she honks at him and make it his mission to ruin her life and murder her loved ones. Mondays, am I right?

Russell Crowe as “the Man.” Skip Bolden/Solstice Studios and Ingenious Media

In spite of the musings in the opening credits, there are neither depths below the surface nor style above it. The action proceeds in a way that could kindly be described as “straightforward,” neatly trading off car chases for ruthless in-person showdowns back and forth for a solid hour. There’s not much to comment on aesthetically, nor does the story do much to create suspense. Most plot points are telegraphed from minute one, and the script leaves no heavily flagged expository detail unused, which at least provides a couple small rewards for sticking it out the full 90 minutes. Viewers should be advised that there is a lot of violence in Unhinged, and though it’s rarely particularly gory, the brutality and relentlessness of it is difficult to watch.

To the movie’s credit, the choices Rachel makes in response to the bizarre situation she’s faced with are for the most part reasonable (read: not designed to make you yell “No, don’t go in there!”), and Caren Pistorius is believably panic-stricken without swerving into overwrought territory. For his part, Russell Crowe is effectively menacing, though there’s not much in his actual performance to inspire fear aside from the bluntness of his actions. The only supporting character to be in more than one or two scenes is Gabriel Bateman as Rachel’s son, and he, like Pistorius, gives a remarkably well-controlled performance given the material.

Caren Pistorius in Unhinged. Skip Bolden/Solstice Studios and Ingenious Media

The film makes a passing attempt at commentary on gendered violence and the obsequiousness men often demand from women. This, however, is undercut by the universality of the Man’s indifferent rage. He can find a reason to be angry enough at anyone to justify torturing and killing them, and here, too, any opportunity to explore or expose something interesting is lost because the story repeatedly implies that maybe he does have good reason to be this angry. Even more disturbing is the complete lack of nuance in the movie’s portrayal of the relationship between anger and violence. The implication is that anyone, if pushed far enough, is bound to boil over into homicidal rage; that this type of rage is in essence not dissimilar from righteous anger, such as anger directed at cruelty; and that maybe there’s not that much difference between him and Rachel. Besides, of course, all the people he’s murdered.

Unhinged seems to want to say something about “senseless” or “random” violence, and the opening montage seems to want to tie individual violence to structural violence. However, the dearth of subtlety or contextualization—or even the fun of a flashy, well-designed popcorn movie—keeps the film from being either the poignant parable it aimed to be or the pulpy thriller it could have been.

Save your health and your money. Not even movie-theater butter could save this one.