Numbered Lives

Numbered Lives, a new thriller from director J.G. Clarke, is a technically competent, but poorly written, prison drama with a science-fiction twist. Skilfully shot and refreshingly vibrant, this feature showcases some strong filmmaking. The set-design, for instance, is deserving of praise, and the cinematography is sharp and often inventive. But it is, overall, a rather unpleasant watch. We follow Noah, a character who’s sent to prison to face a world of abuse and government exploitation. Like any movie, it has its strengths and weaknesses; yet you rarely see such dramatically fluctuating levels of quality on a scene-to-scene basis. To begin, let’s talk about the strange mix of acting styles...

A couple of performances feel slightly wooden, but this is by no means a big issue, and most of the actors put in strong work. Matthew O’Sullivan (who plays the protagonist) is especially engaging. And yet, Jeremy Piven, it would seem from the poster, could very well be the star of the show; although his being in the movie seems limited to a few select locations. This is by no means a knock, since it does bring a bizarre energy to the picture, and it’s difficult to determine who the main players are within the massive cast of characters. By analysing Piven’s performance, particularly in the context of a slightly smaller production, you can sort of see why he had commercial success in Hollywood for as long as he did - in as much as his loud, vulgar, horrifically aggressive screen presence ends up being the most intriguing part of whatever scene the man’s in. His main move seems to be throwing the occasional - and, I suspect, improvisational - “fuck” into every line delivery... which is interesting (by which I mean, not good). This brings us onto the film’s use of dialogue, which may very well be its biggest problem. As an example, there’s a consistent use of homophobia and misogyny in the writing, and we can infer that the purpose of this is to be either disturbing or realistic (or even perceptive). But unfortunately, it proves to be none of those things. It is, instead, annoying.

I’d like to draw attention to the film’s best sequence, for there are many great characteristics of the piece which one wishes would be more present throughout. There is a fabulously impressive long-take towards the end, in which a prison guard dances alone in the expressive blue of the moonlight. The shot very slowly pushes in, without cutting, as the guard proceeds to commit terrible acts - but all of this is conveyed through the sound. The restrained direction, minimal dialogue, and beautiful use of colour and silhouette really makes this a chilling moment. It’s a truly arresting scene which plays to all the movie’s strengths. As mentioned, one of these strengths is the audio. The sound design is rich with detail; clearly crafted at the most professional level, making everything feel fully cinematic. You could accuse the audio work of being heavy-handed, to which I would respond that that’s precisely what the film requires.

It’s an interesting piece to discuss, in that so many of the aesthetic elements clash with the more structural sensibilities in one way or another. But Numbered Lives is, to its credit, a visually and audibly clean and watchable feature-film which holds the audience’s interest, and - in terms of cinematography - utilises film form to its stylistic advantage.