Director Report Card: Marjane Satrapi (2014)

4. The Voices

Any film fan worth their salt knows about the Black List. That's the annually assembled list of the hottest un-produced screenplays circulating in Hollywood. What I somehow didn't know is that there's a horror version of the Black List. First put together in 2009, the Blood List similarly ranks the hottest horror scripts that have let to be filmed. (Or, at least, the hottest horror scripts submitted to the people who decide these things.) A few notable films have emerged out of this tradition and the first of them was “The Voices.” Written by Michael J. Perry, the script would catch the attention of Marjane Satrapi, making her second solo feature and first American film. 

Jerry is an upbeat young man, working in a shipping department of a bathtub factory. He's devoted to his pets, cat Mr. Whiskers and dog Boscoe. He has a crush on his co-worker, Fiona, so much so that he doesn't notice Lisa in accounting is obviously smitten with him. He sees a court-appointed shrink every week, who makes sure he continues to take his medication. But Jerry hasn't been taken his medication... Which is why Mr. Whiskers and Boscoe talk to him. Mr. Whiskers tells Jerry to do terrible things. Following a chance encounter with Fiona and a car accident, Jerry “accidentally” kills her. Soon, Jerry's visions, fantasies and homicidal tendencies begin to intrude on the façade of a normal life he's created.  

Even though none of her previous films fit into the horror genre, it's easy to see why Marjane Satrapi would be drawn towards “The Voices.” In her past work, we see an interest in how people perceive reality. In “Persepolis,” young Marji's memories and the memories of her family were brought to vivid life, illustrating how they see the world. Much the same was done in “Chicken with Plums,” as we took an inside-out look at a man's life. Even the shifting deceptions of “Gang of the Jotas” displays this theme. “The Voices” takes place almost entirely in Jerry's head. Without the audience even realizing it, we are seeing his version of events. Occasionally, such as when Jerry takes his medication, the camera will pull back and reveal the truth: That his apartment is filthy and dingy. That human entrails have been left on the forest floor. Yet most of “The Voices” occupies the space between Jerry's ears, showing a distinct representation of reality that isn't even real within the film.

“The Voices” shows Jerry's disconnect from reality in a highly cinematic fashion. The film's visual palette is ever so slightly exaggerated. The colors are bright and vibrant, such as in the hot pink jumpsuits Jerry wears at work. Or the spotless white dress Fiona wears when Jerry retrieves her body. There's also a gleeful symmetry to the film's visual language. Whether he's standing in his shadowy apartment or doing a conga line through the offices at work, every detail in “The Voices” is perfectly, intentionally placed. You see the comic book artist in Satrapi poking through several times. Such as when Jerry leans over Fiona's corpse in the background, framed by the trees around him. Satrapi finds a way to indulge her visual trademarks that speak to the story's themes and ideas.

That Jerry's pets communicate with him is no doubt a reference to David Berkowitz claiming his neighbor's dog told him to kill. Yet “The Voices” uses this on-the-surface absurd deference of guilt to tell us more about Jerry's inner struggle. Mr. Whiskers urges Jerry to kill, to give into his murderous impulses. Boscoe, meanwhile, is the angel on his other shoulder, encouraging him to do the right thing, to stop or turn himself in. The cat is a predator, eager to hunt prey. A cat sees nothing wrong with killing. The dog represents obedience to the social norms, to the laws of good and evil. Mr. Whiskers wants Jerry to be a killer. Boscoe wants Jerry to be a “good boy.”   

This is not the deepest symbolism, when it comes to our feline and canine friends. In fact, I've seen very similar uses of both animals in lesser movies. Yet what makes “The Voices'” use of the talking cat and dog trope so clever is that, despite their symbolic value, they are still animals. They still do the stuff you associate with pets. Mr. Whiskers still demands Jerry feeds him, regardless of what else is going on. At one point, because he got home late, Mr. Whiskers takes a shit on Jerry's couch. Despite being the voice of reason between the two animals, Boscoe is still a dog. He demands to smells people's crotches throughout the film or becomes overjoyed when offered a walk. It's a really funny way to defuse any pretensions involved in the story, in which Mr. Whiskers and Boscoe represents Jerry's battling urges and are still regular animals. 

Pets represent something else too: They are the people that often keep us company when no one else will. We invite animals into our homes because we enjoy their companionship, because it holds the loneliness back. “The Voices” is a movie that understands loneliness, and all the other emotions tied in with it, well. We get glimpses of Jerry's abusive childhood, of an abusive father and a mother wracked with her own mental illness. We learn that, from a young age, he's heard voices and invented personas to communicate with. (Via a frankly nightmarish scene devoted to the squeaky-voiced “Bunny Monkey.”) Throughout the story, Jerry finds companionship elsewhere, with the women in his life. When he screws up and murders them – something of a metaphor for a very bad break-up – he keeps their heads around, which also talk to him. Jerry doesn't take his meds because it means confronting his pain-filled past. It means living with loneliness, instead of escaping into a fantasy world of talking animals and girlfriends that still love him after they're dead. 

Despite being a slaughterer of women, whose killings grow more calculated and cold-blooded as the film goes on, we sympathize with Jerry. We see and understand the trauma that forged him. He's trying his best to be normal. He projects the image of a naïve and awkward man-child who projects an upbeat attitude at all times, in such a way that it becomes uncomfortable. He never lashes out in anger but in fear, killing in some sort of desperate attempt to protect himself or his world. This can be frightening, as you watch him spiral more into madness. Yet Jerry is also us. In a key scene, his shrink explains that we all hear voices. We all have feelings of doubt and fear and anxiety. Of competing impulses, to destroy others or ourselves or listen to our better nature. 

Another reason why we like Jerry is because of the actor playing him. Ryan Reynolds, right before “Deadpool” made him a box office drawl again, stars. The aggressive comedic energy Reynolds has, which can be grating or mugging when applied to the wrong roles, are expertly channeled here. Reynolds' desire to have everyone like him works really well for a serial killer desperate to project an upbeat attitude, to trick others and himself into thinking he's normal. Reynolds also provides all the voices Jerry hears. He gives Mr. Whiskers a Scottish brogue and Boscoe a doofy cartoon voice. Reynolds does a good enough job of disguising his voice so that you don't immediately recognize him as the animals, while also sounding enough like Jerry that you get what the film is going for.

Reynolds' casting also serves another purpose: He's handsome, which makes it believable that some beautiful women would be attracted to him even with his somewhat off-putting personality. This is why Fiona willingly gets into a car with him. Or why Lisa develops a crush on him. Gemma Arterton plays the former while Anna Kendrick is the latter. Arterton perfectly plays Fiona as all surface, someone whose gorgeous and bubbly exterior hides nothing much at all. This makes it clear that Jerry sees something in her that isn't quite there. Kendrick, meanwhile, plays Lisa as lovably dorky, someone willing to put up with a lot to make people love her. Which certainly suggest that she has some trauma of her own in her past. Another fine performer in the film is Jacki Weaver as Jerry's shrink, who does a good job of balancing sincere concern with perhaps some misplaced hope. Yet she knows what to do when the time comes, delivering that key monologue late in the film.

Some have accused Marjane Satrapi's films in the past of being too “cute.” Too knowingly quirky or self-aware in their surreal touches. Those who have that problem with her movies will not have their opinions changed by “The Voices.” Jerry lives above an abandoned bowling alley, the neon sign of the pins prominently featured in several moments. A moment of forklifts taking boxes off the trucks at the factory is choreographed like a dance. A sequence takes place in a Chinese restaurant, where the waiters perform elaborate shows for the dinners. Jerry's murders are only discovered because of the intrusion of some nosy co-workers (one of which is played by edge lord producer Adi Shankar for some reason), who are not the most realistic characters. And if you're expecting a serial killer movie directed by a woman to question what role sexism plays in Jerry's choices, “The Voices” isn't exactly that kind of movie.

Ultimately, I guess I'm a sucker for Satrapi's strain of self-aware quirky bullshit. A number of the oddball jokes in this movie made me laugh. Such as everything playing on the TV perfectly corresponding to the conversations Jerry has with his pets. Or a moment where everyone in the apartment, including Mr. Whiskers, starts screaming like crazy. The movie's most extravagant swing is also its most unexpected. Throughout “The Voices,” Jerry sings “Sing a Happy Song” by The O'Jays, a musical choice that obviously reflects his desire to project positivism no matter how bleak he may feel. This builds up to a fantastically colorful, beautifully choregraphed, and hilariously unexpected song-and-dance number in the film's final moments. It's the perfect moment of wacky, yet strangely empathetic, humor to end with, a touch of darkness just under the irrepressibly upbeat music. 

“The Voices” was one of many vehicles almost directed by Mark Romanek and nearly had Ben Stiller in the starring role. Considering he had already directed “One Hour Photo,” a far more bracing movie about an isolated psychopath with unhealthy obsessions, one imagines Romanek's “Voices” would've been a far more intense film. In Satrapi's hands, with Reynolds' off-beat energy in the lead role, “The Voices” becomes a delightfully funny and surprisingly rich dark comedy. Reynolds expressed regret that the movie didn't attract more of an audience, though it's hard to imagine a movie like this reaching the same level of success as, say, “Deadpool.” I think it might be his best film. It might be Satrapi's best film too, her visual inventiveness and trademark bent sense of humor finding a sturdy home in this tale of pets and brutal murder. [Grade: A-]