One of the more notable (albeit not too worrying) trends in modern cinema is the overemphasis on grit and realism – it seems like far too many genres are being overtaken by works that appear to be driven by the adage of “less is more”, almost as if anything that goes against this principle is indicative of bad, excessive cinema. There is virtue in maximalism, at least when it is done right and undergoes the proper process. One director who has been doing quite well in keeping his films unique in terms of both content and execution is Scott Cooper, who has demonstrated some dependency on more realistic depictions of his stories (often to varying levels of quality), but has always managed to find the time to explore them deeper, whether the specific narratives or the genre in which they were constructed. His most recent effort is The Pale Blue Eye, which Cooper adapts from the novel by Louis Bayard, which tells the story of a retired detective called out to solve the murder of a young soldier in Upstate New York, and where he is assisted in his investigation by a young cadet by the name of Edgar Allan Poe, whose impressionable young mind is clearly influenced by this grisly mystery, especially since it seems to be the work of a serial killer targeting these soldiers, which only unearths a dark set of secrets, from which the two investigators begin to struggle to find an escape. Equally complex as it is achingly beautiful in both structure and intention, The Pale Blue Eye is a challenging work that finds Cooper voyaging to the early 19th century, where he sets out to tell a strange but engrossing story that is steeped in intrigue and unhinged terror, crafted with a level of detail that suggests that he is quietly becoming one of our more reliable directors, handcrafting a peculiar but captivating narrative that has a very particular set of ideas, each one developed to form a very unique twist on the murder mystery genre, especially in how it contains many very surprising developments that not even the most eagle-eyed of viewers would be able to see coming.

A fascinating but sinister blend of detective drama, psychological thriller and gothic horror, The Pale Blue Eye is a compelling film that proves Cooper’s versatility as a director, adding onto a small but significant body of work that sees him seemingly venturing out and trying to work in every conceivable genre, each of his half-dozen films being bespoke in their own way, giving off the impression that Cooper is not one to repeat himself or revisit the same kind of story more than once, which is admirable in itself, since it suggests a diverse range of interests. His niche as a director has always been in a very particular style rather than a category of film, and while he does seem to prefer certain kinds of stories, it’s impossible to classify his films under a single label, which is a quality that he has managed to very effectively portray throughout his directorial career, since we never quite know what to expect when stepping into one of his films. The Pale Blue Eye doesn’t deviate from this at all, and for all of its 130 minutes, we are kept engaged and invested in seeing where this story leads, which may be surprising for those who went in without much prior knowledge, perhaps the ideal way to consume this story, based on the fact that it centres on the element of surprise that sits right at the heart of the narrative, and that the best way to experience this fictionalized account of the period is to just surrender to the film, following the direction Cooper intends to take us, and simply experiencing it, moment by moment. The result is a film that may be slow, but in a way that seems intentional – the director meditates on every moment, acknowledging that a good mystery isn’t only about searching for clues and unearthing secrets, but also building suspense, which this film does remarkably well, albeit by distancing itself from other entries into the genre that tend to follow a very particular formula. The Pale Blue Eye does have its shortcomings, but it certainly has a unique approach to developing the material in a way that feels genuine, offering us the right balance of mystery and melodrama that we seek from these films, while adding layers of chilling gothic horror onto an already multilayered premise.

The Pale Blue Eye is certainly a film that prioritizes its characters and gives them to actors capable of driving the film. It is a competently-told story, but what elevates it are the people tasked with bringing these individuals to life. This is particularly important considering it traverses the boundary between reality and fiction, featuring a blend of historical figures and constructions made specifically for the story, a common trope in a lot of contemporary literature, and something that Cooper manages to seamlessly weave into the narrative in a way that feels authentic enough to convince us to the validity of the story. Christian Bale leads the film, and gives one of his most surprisingly subtle and nuanced performances. His previous collaborations with Cooper have yielded some of his best work, and this film is certainly not an exception, being the precise kind of balanced, striking portrayal that Bale tends to deliver when working with a director that can reign in his eccentricity as an actor, rather than depend on the tics and quirks that many see as a merit, but usually end up being the source of a lot of frustration for those who aren’t quite as enamoured with his over-the-top style. As the dedicated but mysterious former detective called in to help solve a mystery, he is very good – quiet and observant, it’s not a performance that requires Bale to resort to excess, but rather serve as the shepherd of the story, moving it forward in his capacity as the audience surrogate. The more complex work is done by Harry Melling, who has grown considerably as an actor, working with a number of exceptional directors, all of them contributing to his steady ascent to become one of our finest character actors. His performance as Edgar Allan Poe is a highwire act that sees the actor move deftly between eccentricity and subtlety – in the hands of a less-experienced actor, there’s no doubt that it would have been an exercise in excess, but Melling manages to avoid it at all costs, instead delivering a peculiar but striking performance. The film also assembles quite an impressive supporting cast – Timothy Spall, Toby Jones, Robert Duvall and Gillian Anderson all have sizable roles, helping push the narrative forward and complementing the overall tone of the film, which required complete dedication from the actors to bring it to life effectively.

There is a very good story that we see transpiring throughout The Pale Blue Eye, and it is the kind of narrative that we don’t initially even pay attention to when it comes to the details, since we know that everything will fall into place at some point. Beyond the actual storyline, which is brimming with surprises, we find Cooper doing some of his greatest work in terms of visual construction, perhaps his finest yet. The film is a combination of period drama, gothic horror and psychological murder mystery, and it needed to reflect each one of those equally well, especially if it was aiming to maintain that level of aptitude as a film steeped heavily in history, at least a version of it that is recognizable. Cooper is both a great storyteller and visual stylist, and this film proves his mettle in both regards – without a strong story, the film would feel prosaic and lifeless, and without a good visual palette, it would not be enticing enough to make the viewer want to explore the world in which it takes place. As a result, there was a two-pronged process necessary to bring The Pale Blue Eye to life. The cinematography, which comes on behalf of Masanobu Takayanagi (a frequent collaborator that has helped Cooper bring some of his most challenging stories to life), is absolutely stunning – the way the film captures not only the period in terms of the architecture but also the wide open spaces of the region in which it takes place, is spellbinding. The impeccable costumes and production design is also a major contributing factor to the unique nature of the surrounding film – it never feels like it is relying on being a period drama to capture the audience’s attention (which happens so frequently), but still captures the spirit of the era, which is ingrained in every frame through the most intimate details. Cooper puts a lot of effort into constructing a film that is both beautiful to perceive and thought-provoking, and the unique traits and characteristics that we find scattered throughout the film makes it such an immersive, captivating experience that holds our attention much more than other similarly-themed films.

On the surface, The Pale Blue Eye seems like a relatively conventional film – there’s nothing particularly noteworthy about it at a cursory glance, and it doesn’t immediately strike the viewer as being entirely original. In essence, it is a period thriller that centres on a murder, with an ensemble cast of actors tasked with portraying the major players in the story. It is slow and stoic at times, and it can feel almost stone-faced in the middle segments, between the story development and the eventual resolution. It takes its time and develops the many ideas properly and with a succinct attention to detail that can be challenging for some viewers who are not well-versed in this kind of intentionally paced cinema, where there are long stretches where nothing noteworthy occurs. However, the more we make our way through this film, the clearer it becomes that this is an exceptionally special film, especially when we reach the final act, where not only are the most disturbing but fascinating details contained, but also the surprising resolution, where the mystery is not only solved, but done so in a way that is entirely unexpected and borders on creatively perverse, taking us on a thrilling journey into the 1830s, looking at matters of class and social conventions, all through the perspective of a dark and harrowing murder mystery that is very liberal with its use of horror imagery and gothic details, all of which add up to an unforgettable experience that takes its time to reach a coherent point, but after which there is very little doubt towards its excellent command of both narrative and execution. It proves that Cooper is a director whose work we should start appreciating, because while they may not always be subtle or particularly riveting, they are solid genre films that carry many merits, and provide a complex, thrilling series of ideas that are all beautifully interwoven into the fabric of the medium.