Detective thrillers have always had one foot in the horror genre, often starring morally complex investigators forced to confront the nastiest facets of the human condition while hunting down rogue killers. Naturally, these hard-boiled yarns are as common as they are popular, and it takes a special kind of storyteller to extract a meaningful experience from such familiar tropes.
While he’s mostly known for his multi-million dollar epics, I’d argue that Christopher Nolan is one of these rare talents, with the British director starting out his career with a compelling trio of down-to-earth thrillers that culminated in 2002’s Insomnia – arguably the filmmaker’s most underrated film. And with Nolan back in the spotlight after miraculously turning an R-rated biopic into a bona fide blockbuster event, I thought that this might be a great opportunity to look back on the filmmaker’s first studio-backed project.
A remake of a 1997 Norwegian film of the same name, the American Insomnia was originally set to be directed by Jonathan Demme before the producer (Steven Soderbergh) watched Memento and decided that Christopher Nolan was the perfect man for the job. Hillary Seitz then went on to adapt the screenplay for North American audiences, with producers suggesting the removal of elements deemed too dark or offensive; though the remake’s ending is even bleaker than the original.
In the finished film, Al Pacino takes over Stellan Skarsgård’s role as a Los Angeles detective, here renamed to Will Dormer, who accidentally shoots his partner while investigating a murder in Nightmute, Alaska. Haunted by his mistake and the never-setting sun of the arctic, Dormer is stricken with a sever case of insomnia as he attempts to track down a manipulative killer who uses the detective’s guilt against him.
SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?
Like most of Nolan’s films, Insomnia was an immediate critical and commercial darling, making back its budget and then some while impressing critics who were weary of yet another American remake. In fact, Roger Ebert even pointed out in his original review that the flick was a “re-examination” of the same story rather than a traditional retelling, comparing the experience to a “new production of a good play.”
That’s actually a very apt way of describing the picture, and not only because it’s an adaptation of an existing story. In general, Insomnia feels a lot like a deconstruction of the detective genre itself, with the relationship between our main character and the antagonist becoming more and more muddled as Pacino’s Dormer is forced to confront his own failings. In fact, the “mystery” here is really derived from the audience wondering how the detective will escape this situation, and whether or not he deserves to, not the crimes themselves.
Nolan also cleverly characterizes the uncaring arctic landscape as something of a secondary villain, framing Pacino in chilling seas of fog and ice and further isolating him in his sleep-deprived state. You really get a sense that Dormer’s perception of the world around him is becoming more dreamlike as the film goes on, with his unraveling mind feeding into his growing paranoia.
And speaking of Pacino, the talented ensemble here is already worth the price of admission. I don’t think anyone needs a reminder about why Pacino is one of the greatest actors of all time, but his nervous chemistry with the late Robin Williams is simply captivating. I’ve always loved watching Williams play unhinged characters, and while his take on Walter Finch isn’t quite as disturbing as Sy in One Hour Photo (which came out the same year), it’s still further proof that his passing didn’t just deprive the world of a gifted comedian but an accomplished thespian as well.
AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?
Anyone who’s ever dealt with insomnia knows how eerie things can get after a period of sustained sleep deprivation – not to mention the creeping dread of not knowing if the next night will be any better. I honestly think that being forced to live out your day in a state of half-aware exhaustion due to the obligations of modern life is one of the most terrifying things in the world, and that’s why I found Dormer’s steady loss of sanity so compelling.
I mean, it eventually feels like the sun itself is actively punishing the detective throughout his investigation instead of merely facilitating his suffering, which I think is a testament to the film’s incredibly gloomy atmosphere despite everything being bathed in ever-present light. In all honesty, I don’t think Nolan ever achieved this kind of effortless style in his future films despite continuing to partner with cinematographer Wally Pfister.
I also find the quiet rage of William’s character to be quite disturbing, as this specific kind of psychologically damaged individual is much more in line with real world killers, especially once he starts to debate justifications for murder. There’s actually a fascinating exchange where Dormer ends up replying to Finch that he’s simply the current job and about as mysterious to him as a blocked toilet is to a plumber, with the detective recognizing that the motivations don’t really matter.
Insomnia might not be truly scary, operating neatly as a mostly conventional detective thriller despite deconstructing many of the genre’s tropes, but it’s still remarkably eerie when compared to similar films. Personally, I’m on the fence as to whether or not it’s better than the Norwegian original, but this is still one of Nolan’s most fascinating films and the main reason why I wish the director would go back to making smaller budget thrillers.
There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.