Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		3.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		2.0
Overall		3.5

Surveillance Blu-ray Movie Review

“There’s only one way to unfold a note without tearing the paper.”

Reviewed by Casey Broadwater August 17, 2009

Her phone rang late one night, and when Jennifer Lynch picked up the receiver she heard a voice on the other end of the line whisper, “You’re the sickest bitch I know.” The voice belonged to her father, auteur filmmaker and American surrealist David Lynch, and I imagine the superlative came out in a tone of perverse admiration. He’d just finished reading her script for Surveillance— her first after a 15-year filmmaking hiatus—and the brutal ending disgusted him. (This coming from the man who introduced the world to Dennis Hopper’s gas-huffing sadist in Blue Velvet, and created Twin Peaks, a hit TV show which, at its heart, is about incest and filicide.) Most kids go out of their way to shock their parents, but if your dad is David Lynch the feat must be significantly more difficult. Jennifer Lynch first came into the public consciousness by writing The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer, an accompanying text to Twin Peaks, and when she was 23 she directed Boxing Helena, a high-profile project—once set to star Madonna—that tanked and prompted somewhat unjust allegations of nepotism. With Surveillance, Lynch the younger makes a modestly triumphant return to the director’s chair, crafting a sick thriller that borrows liberally from her father’s thematic preoccupations, but also establishes her own “manic punk” filmmaking aesthetic—in Bill Pullman’s words, not mine.

Hey Bill, monitor #1...

Along a remote stretch of Nebraskan highway, a savage roadside rampage has left several dead. Three survivors are brought to the nearest podunk police station as witnesses, but in each case their reliability to recount the events faithfully is suspect. Bobbi Prescott (Pell James) is a speed- addled addict whose testimony may be colored by her drug use, Jack Bennet (Kent Harper) is a corrupt cop who lost his partner Jim (French Stewart) during the attack, and Stephanie (Ryan Simpkins), an eight year old whose family was murdered right in front of her eyes, is remarkably resilient, but isn’t saying much. FBI agents Sam Hallaway and Elizabeth Anderson (Bill Pullman and Julia Ormond) are brought in to question the witnesses—recording each interview session on surveillance cameras, hence the title—but it’s readily apparent that someone, perhaps everyone, is lying.

Most critics have compared the film’s multiple witness plot device to that in Kurasawa’s Rashoman, but this is a little misleading. In the Japanese classic, the characters’ stories are shown to be explicitly contradictory—we have to decide who is telling the truth—and only one can be correct. Surveillance works a bit differently. What each character says to his or her interrogator may, in fact, be riddled with lies, but the accompanying flashbacks that we’re given show us the objective truth of what happened by the roadside. Each flashback fills in additional pieces of the overall puzzle, and so what the witnesses actually say is ultimately of little importance, serving only to build their characters and add to the intrigue. As an audience, we’re in on most of the lies, and so the core mystery of who committed the murders and why is what ends up driving the narrative. And it works, mostly. There are a few dead giveaways, but if you haven’t figured out the plot twist by the time it slaps you across the face, Surveillance is a craftily constructed thriller that cruises along, only hitting a few minor pacing-related speed bumps along the way.

How the story is told is less important than the thematic issues that it addresses, though, and like body fluids at a particularly grisly crime scene, Surveillance is spotted, splashed, and stained with evidence of the Lynchian gene pool. Anyone familiar with the work of David Lynch will recognize the strange emotional/spatial disconnect he invests in video sources—see Lost Highway’s creepy VHS tour of Bill Pullman’s home or David Bowie’s disruption of the time/space continuum captured on a surveillance monitor in Fire Walk With Me. In Inland Empire, the medium literally becomes the message, as the low-grade consumer video cameras used during production offer a look at reality that is slightly off kilter and one step removed. Jennifer Lynch uses the same vague video foreboding here, only she’s less intuitively effective. Other motifs are similarly apparent. The conflict between the police and the FBI agents invites unavoidable Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me comparisons, and the indoor/outdoor reversal of the autumnal deer mural inside the police break room is reminiscent of the woodsy interior of the Great Northern Hotel. Even the film’s opening sequence has a “woman in trouble” vibe that’s strait out of the elder Lynch’s playbook. To borrow from Bill Pullman again and make a “manic punk” comparison, if David Lynch is, say, The Pixies, then his daughter Jennifer is perhaps Green Day—more mainstream and accessible, but definitely not as heavy hitting or emotionally fulfilling. Jennifer Lynch is no mere copycat, though, and Surveillance occasionally surges with some remarkable ideas of its own. Of particularly morbid interest is an exploration of le petite mort—the little death, as the French have dubbed sexual climax—with the film’s literal and figurative last breath consumed by aberrant sexuality.

If it sounds uber-serious and a little too sick for its own good, it isn’t, and the film’s tone is ghoulishly lightened by some wicked comedy that’s blacker than David Lynch’s coffee. Kent Harper and French Stewart are brilliant here, and their good cop/bad cop routine is so sadistically effective you won’t know whether to laugh or shield your eyes. Stewart is nearly unrecognizable from his 3rd Rock days, and he outright steals several scenes with a casually self- possessed, Robert Downey Jr.-ish charisma. Bill Pullman and Julia Ormond are fantastic as well, and it’s hard to believe how undervalued they are in Hollywood, especially Pullman. They anchor the film by the sheer professionalism of their presence, and their Mulder and Scully style relationship crackles tensely with more chemistry than a lab full of Bunsen burners. Thriller fans will enjoy the overturned takes on genre conventions, but be forewarned: Surveillance is not for the squeamish or faint of heart. The roadside massacre is a macabre parody of those scared-straight style films you had to watch in driver’s ed, with blood galore and pulpy brain matter strewn across the highway in festive red chunks of gore.

Surveillance Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Surveillance comes to Blu-ray with a 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer that's true to the director's ultra-vivid, overpumped stylistic decisions. Each flashbacks sequence is told through the tone-altering filter of a different film stock. The drug addict's tale is shot with bright, supersaturated colors that emphasize her heightened emotional state, and her scenes pop with manic reds, blown yellow highlights, and overcooked skintones. The cops—who are having the authoritarian time of their lives before all hell breaks loose—are bathed in warm, yellowish, almost nostalgic hues that play up their sense of control. And the little girl's memories are presented in a more realistic, but still contrast-heavy palette that evokes the summery haze of family vacations. Colors remain slightly on edge during the interrogation scenes, especially primaries, but a more neutral look prevails. Black levels are adequately deep during the flashback scenes, but in Bill Pullman's control room you'll notice some soupier grays, particularly on his crisp, black G-man suit. Appropriate for the film's frantic energy, a thin but active grain field buzzes over the image, but it rarely distracts and gives only a few darker scenes a softer look. Sharpness and overall clarity, then, are about average, with some knife-sharp shots during Bobbi's flashback standing out from the rest. Considering it's paltry budget, Surveillance is quite a looker in high def, so long as you appreciate Jen Lynch's aesthetic choices.

Surveillance Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The younger Lynch has inherited her father's use of unsettling ambience, and Surveillance's DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround track is proof that a film doesn't need bombastic, channel-hopping sound design to be effective. The activity in the surround channels is sparse, but it lends Surveillance a sense of desolate unease. Fluorescent lights buzz unceasingly like seething insects, wind whips over the Nebraskan plains with cold, unfeeling constancy, and a deep, unnatural drone malignantly underscores the tense interrogation scenes. There are few discrete surround effects, but for this sort of film it doesn't really matter, and unlike some movies, overzealous sound design never distracts from what's happening on screen. Dialogue is perfectly prioritized in the front channels, then, and never becomes overwhelmed by surrounding sounds. Foley effects are natural and never jarring—car doors slam realistically, tires blow out with convincing pops and hisses, and the gunplay is crisp and menacingly resolute. Dynamic range is also suitable, from occasion subwoofer throbbings to high-end articulations and a middle ground that's balanced and spacious. This might not be an overly active track, but it makes up for it with persistent, disquieting dread.

Surveillance Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

Commentary by Director Jennifer Lynch and Actors Mac Miller and Charlie Newmark

Be prepared for some crazy non-sequiters when listening to this track, as the participants jump from topic to topic with ADHD-fueled frequency. The three have an innate camaraderie—it's more than clear everyone had fun on the shoot—and they're constantly cracking one another up with on-set anecdotes and brazen double entendres. Lynch's F-bomb infused articulations make her sound like a feral, female version of her father, and her passion for both the project and filmmaking in general is infectious. There's never a dull moment, and this breezy, listenable track will be a must-listen for fans of the film.

Surveillance: The Watched Are Watching (SD, 15:11)

Get ready for some jokes about Regina, the small Canadian town where Surveillance was shot. "Regina, the town that rhymes with fun," is the running gag, and the cast members seem to take giggly junior high pleasure in the fact that they were filming "deep in Regina." Aside from (or perhaps because of) the genital jokes, this is a fairly entertaining on-set documentary that serves up plenty of fun behind-the-scenes footage and interviews with the film's actors. Worth watching, if only because it differs from most talking head featurettes.

HDNet: A Look atSurveillance (1080i, 4:42)

This is a more typical promo piece that ran on HDNet to hype the film. It's not as inherently interesting—or funny—as the behind-the-scenes doc, but no one will mind having it on the disc.

Deleted Scenes and Alternate Ending (SD, 12:11)

Obviously, I'm not going to say much about these, because it would simply give too much away. There are two deleted scenes, plus the alternate ending, all available with optional commentary by Jennifer Lynch.

Also From Magnolia (1080p, 7:51)

Includes trailers for four current and upcoming Magnolia releases.

Surveillance Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Surveillance isn't a perfect film, but it's good to see Jennifer Lynch get a second shot at directing after being critically mauled for the underrated Boxing Helena. It seems the film has started a string of good fortune for her, as she currently has two projects in the works, the almost complete Nagin (aka Hisss), and Scribble, which is presently in negotiations. If you've yet to see Surveillance, it's a worthy Blu-ray purchase for anyone into indie thrillers or darker dramas. Recommended.