The title Prisoners suggests far more than the viewer would be led to believe. There are the obvious forms in that of the kidnapped children and the possible suspect, Alex (Paul Dano), whom one of the girl's fathers, Keller (Hugh Jackman), abducts to retrieve information from. However, these two examples are only the surface of both film and title as Denis Villeneuve's two-and-a-half hour crime thriller is a case of a cryptic nature.
Exploring the film, we are first greeted by the image of a forest – an establishing mechanism to give the feel of the wild – as Keller recites the "Our Father" and his son shoots and kills his first deer. Keller congratulates his son and remarks that if his father ever taught him anything it was to, "Pray for the best, prepare for the worst." This exposition places Keller as a primal being; a man that clearly recognizes the importance that the father serves and categorizes hunting as a rite of passage (the importance of the first kill and the religious connotation he places over the act reinforce that). Now, juxtaposed with Keller is Franklin (Terrence Howard): father to Joy (Kyla Simmons), who along with Keller's daughter, Anna (Erin Gerasimovich), are the abductees. The first time we meet Franklin is on Thanksgiving – the day of the kidnapping – with a trumpet in hand as he plays an awful rendition of, "The Star Spangled Banner" (a song that Keller is jokingly rumored to sing in the shower).
Delving further into the picture, we meet Detective Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal), the officer assigned to the missing persons case and our balance between good and evil. Our introduction to Loki is on Thanksgiving as well and while Keller and Franklin celebrate the holiday together with their families – unknowing of their daughters' abduction – our triumphant detective sits alone in an Asian diner. A self- implemented sense of isolation perhaps due to some past discrepancy is felt. Wholly dedicated to his job it is rare that we see Loki anywhere but the office or patrolling – to be honest I cannot remember if we ever see the man at his home – leading to notion of imprisonment by his occupation.
Now, the theory of universal imprisonment in the film is further implemented by Roger Deakins' cinematography. Most houses are shot like enormous multi-room jail cells and moments when the cameras hover above Loki at his desk feel darkly voyeuristic (as if we are viewing the man not through the fourth wall but plexiglass). In fact, one of the most interesting aspects I found of the film is that the only literal prisoners - being the daughters and Alex – are rarely ever seen. The film is not about them as much as it is the captives who believe to be free, who believe to be in the right.
This sense of morality can be explored through Keller and Franklin. In the aforementioned opening scenes the polarity created between the two men could not be greater and that is where much of the film's greatest tension comes from as well. On one hand, you have the devout Christian, a patriot, a former alcoholic – clearly a flawed yet conscious man - whose primal tendencies may very well lead him to solving the puzzle. While on the other, you have the nuclear familial father: knit sweater, non-threatening lifestyle, and an overall sense of right and wrong. A man who is thrown into the "act now, think later" mentality of Keller and begins to suffer from attacks on his own sense of morality. Our foundation of the film is the image of one father with gun in hand and the other with a trumpet. How could one expect them to work together in a cohesive manner?
This sense of chaos and the balance that Loki instills keeps any possibility of these characters being shackled at bay. It is not until the film's third act when the "big reveal" is made that we realize truly how much the title, Prisoners, encapsulates. It is a marvelous twist in not the way that it makes the viewer gasp but the depth it adds to each and every character. The surface it seamlessly breaks allowing for a distinct emotional connection to form. It is the knowledge of Keller's father's suicide and his alcoholism that creates the notion that while he is our anti-hero, he suffers from deep abandonment issues (creating the driving force in his actions of doing anything to save his child) and is as much of a prisoner of himself as the others in the film. It is not until the red herring sub-plot of Bob Taylor (David Dastmalachian) – a grown man who was kidnapped as a child and has since never been able to escape the sensations of it - that the viewer is able to understand the psychological ramifications of imprisonment. I have seen critics complain about the use of the character, Bob Taylor, yet it is through his demise that we are able to finally view characters such as Keller, Franklin, and Loki through a new lens that creates the understanding and empathy necessary to immerse yourself with the picture.
While it only covers a mere week, Prisoners is a generational exploration of the ways people can place themselves and others in various forms of imprisonment. Whether it is the emotional captivity – due to the absence of Anna - of Keller's wife, Grace (Maria Bello), or the mental arrest placed on Alex's childhood that has led him to where he is now. Prisoners suggests that whether you are in a box, a locked room, at your job, or at home with your family, none of us are really free and it is because of our pasts and the choices of others that we subconsciously continue to shackle ourselves.
Exploring the film, we are first greeted by the image of a forest – an establishing mechanism to give the feel of the wild – as Keller recites the "Our Father" and his son shoots and kills his first deer. Keller congratulates his son and remarks that if his father ever taught him anything it was to, "Pray for the best, prepare for the worst." This exposition places Keller as a primal being; a man that clearly recognizes the importance that the father serves and categorizes hunting as a rite of passage (the importance of the first kill and the religious connotation he places over the act reinforce that). Now, juxtaposed with Keller is Franklin (Terrence Howard): father to Joy (Kyla Simmons), who along with Keller's daughter, Anna (Erin Gerasimovich), are the abductees. The first time we meet Franklin is on Thanksgiving – the day of the kidnapping – with a trumpet in hand as he plays an awful rendition of, "The Star Spangled Banner" (a song that Keller is jokingly rumored to sing in the shower).
Delving further into the picture, we meet Detective Loki (Jake Gyllenhaal), the officer assigned to the missing persons case and our balance between good and evil. Our introduction to Loki is on Thanksgiving as well and while Keller and Franklin celebrate the holiday together with their families – unknowing of their daughters' abduction – our triumphant detective sits alone in an Asian diner. A self- implemented sense of isolation perhaps due to some past discrepancy is felt. Wholly dedicated to his job it is rare that we see Loki anywhere but the office or patrolling – to be honest I cannot remember if we ever see the man at his home – leading to notion of imprisonment by his occupation.
Now, the theory of universal imprisonment in the film is further implemented by Roger Deakins' cinematography. Most houses are shot like enormous multi-room jail cells and moments when the cameras hover above Loki at his desk feel darkly voyeuristic (as if we are viewing the man not through the fourth wall but plexiglass). In fact, one of the most interesting aspects I found of the film is that the only literal prisoners - being the daughters and Alex – are rarely ever seen. The film is not about them as much as it is the captives who believe to be free, who believe to be in the right.
This sense of morality can be explored through Keller and Franklin. In the aforementioned opening scenes the polarity created between the two men could not be greater and that is where much of the film's greatest tension comes from as well. On one hand, you have the devout Christian, a patriot, a former alcoholic – clearly a flawed yet conscious man - whose primal tendencies may very well lead him to solving the puzzle. While on the other, you have the nuclear familial father: knit sweater, non-threatening lifestyle, and an overall sense of right and wrong. A man who is thrown into the "act now, think later" mentality of Keller and begins to suffer from attacks on his own sense of morality. Our foundation of the film is the image of one father with gun in hand and the other with a trumpet. How could one expect them to work together in a cohesive manner?
This sense of chaos and the balance that Loki instills keeps any possibility of these characters being shackled at bay. It is not until the film's third act when the "big reveal" is made that we realize truly how much the title, Prisoners, encapsulates. It is a marvelous twist in not the way that it makes the viewer gasp but the depth it adds to each and every character. The surface it seamlessly breaks allowing for a distinct emotional connection to form. It is the knowledge of Keller's father's suicide and his alcoholism that creates the notion that while he is our anti-hero, he suffers from deep abandonment issues (creating the driving force in his actions of doing anything to save his child) and is as much of a prisoner of himself as the others in the film. It is not until the red herring sub-plot of Bob Taylor (David Dastmalachian) – a grown man who was kidnapped as a child and has since never been able to escape the sensations of it - that the viewer is able to understand the psychological ramifications of imprisonment. I have seen critics complain about the use of the character, Bob Taylor, yet it is through his demise that we are able to finally view characters such as Keller, Franklin, and Loki through a new lens that creates the understanding and empathy necessary to immerse yourself with the picture.
While it only covers a mere week, Prisoners is a generational exploration of the ways people can place themselves and others in various forms of imprisonment. Whether it is the emotional captivity – due to the absence of Anna - of Keller's wife, Grace (Maria Bello), or the mental arrest placed on Alex's childhood that has led him to where he is now. Prisoners suggests that whether you are in a box, a locked room, at your job, or at home with your family, none of us are really free and it is because of our pasts and the choices of others that we subconsciously continue to shackle ourselves.
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