Existential Humor Plus a Dash of Pathos Equals One Excellent Film

Review of The Double by guest blogger Claudia Cortese

Yesterday, the last day of the Montclair Film Festival—one of those sun-blue, perfect spring days—I saw The Double at the Bellevue Theater. Based on the Dostoyevski novel written when the author was only twenty-five, this black comedy, directed by Richard Ayoadestars, stars Jesse Eisenberg as Simon James (and Simon’s double, James Simon) and Mia Wasikowska as Hannah, Simon’s love interest. The film opens on a scene that drew much laughter from the audience: Simon sits in an empty train, fast-moving lights striping his blank face. A man approaches Simon and asks him if he can have his seat. Simon looks around the empty train car in a confused manner, and then lets the man take his place.

The opening introduces our protagonist, a low-level employee at a data processing center who is perpetually ignored and/or bullied. Though this clearly frustrates Simon, he seems incapable of making others truly see him, much less respect him. Even the guard at the Center where Simon has worked for seven years cannot recall him. A recurring scene has Simon reminding the guard who he is, and each morning, the guard does not remember Simon’s name or face. He is, simply put, forgettable.

Though Simon’s “forgettableness” (to use an ungrammatical word) annoys him when interacting with co-workers, it breaks his heart when it comes to Hannah.

Hannah is both an employee at Simon’s firm and his neighbor. Though Hannah talks to Simon when he asks her to make copies for him or when they discuss odd occurrences in their building, she does not take him seriously.

About halfway through the film, Simon James’ “double”—cleverly named James Simon—saunters onto the screen. James opposes Simon in every way: Simon is reticent and James is boisterous; Simon is polite and James demands what he wants—and gets it; Simon’s a nice boy, and James seems to be the prototypical bad boy (a James Dean sort, to offer an obvious pun).

This fairly short film, clocking in at 93 minutes, fires on all cylinders. The script is both profoundly psychological and quite funny—the deadpan humor reminiscent of Wes Anderson’s style, though The Double far surpasses Anderson’s latest efforts in both character development and thematic substance.

The Double explores the complex ways we define ourselves through the gazes of others, and how alienating and just downright lonely life can be, especially when one works in an office whose purpose is to process human beings as data. The film’s yellowish hue and robotic music of typewriter clicks and electronic beeps convey Simon’s decaying sense of self, as well as the larger culture’s spiritual and emotional decay, in a mechanized world. 

For any man who has feared that he is not “macho” enough, or for anyone—man or woman—who has felt like a nameless cog in a machine, this Kafkaesque film is likely to strike a deep nerve in you. And for audiences who want to laugh out loud, while also feeling a twinge (perhaps even a wellspring) of pathos, The Double may well be the perfect film.