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BURN (2019)
Director: Mike Gan Cast: Tilda Cobham-Hervey, Josh Hutcherson, Suki Waterhouse, Harry Shum Jr., Shiloh Fernandez, James Devoti MPAA
Rating: Running Time: 1:28 Release Date: 8/23/19 |
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Review by Mark Dujsik | August 22, 2019 Melinda (Tilda Cobham-Hervey) seems so sad and lonely. She works at a gas station in some anonymous small town, where it seems as if everyone already has decided that she's not worth the time or effort to be friends or more with her. Even so, she wants that—especially the "more" part—more than anything. With Burn, writer/director Mike Gan, making his feature debut, gets us to instantly sympathize with this character, before pulling quite the switcheroo. At first, we see Melinda on an average night at work, during which she is teased by co-worker Sheila (Suki Waterhouse), awkwardly flirts with Officer Liu (Harry Shum Jr.), and even gets derisive looks from an older man who has been trying to court the much younger Sheila. Then, Billy (Josh Hutcherson) arrives at the gas station and pulls out a pistol. He's robbing the place, looking for cash to repay some bikers to whom he owes a debt. After clearing out a cash register, Sheila almost gets him to leave, but Melinda offers to get money from the safe. That's when she asks if she can join Billy in his getaway, and Billy responds, well, just like every other guy to whom Melinda tries to become attached. This is the last straw for her. All of this seems pretty straightforward, as in we think we know how all of this will unfold—with Billy as the antagonist, holding Melinda hostage while she tries to escape. What actually follows, though, isn't as simple. While Melinda remains the protagonist, actively trying to keep people from realizing what's happening in order to protect herself, she's also and essentially the villain here. Billy finds himself terrified of what Melinda might be capable, and she keeps surprising us with the extent of what she's willing to do. All of this is a rather daring move on Gan's part, both in terms of subverting our sympathies for the main character and of inverting the mechanics of a tight-quarters thriller. Cobham-Hervey is so wounded and pathetic in the role that we almost have to stop ourselves from sympathizing with Melinda. Beyond the constant barrage of difficulties (from Liu's return to the inevitable appearance of those bikers), that seems to be the point. Burn is perhaps best viewed as a discomforting study of pain and desperation, wearing the clothing of a mechanical but nimble thriller. Copyright © 2019 by Mark Dujsik. All rights reserved. |
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(for language throughout, violence including a sexual assault, and some
sexual references)
