I saw Fear the Invisible Man

With November being a stellar landmark for The Invisible Man, commemorating the 90th anniversary-release of James Whale/Claude Rains' classic adaptation of H.G. Wells' novel, I've been on a big, transparent kick. That means, in addition to the 1933 effort, I've been watching other Invisible Man productions, and not just those in the Universal chain. 

In fact, I came upon one completed in 2021 but circulated only a few months ago, entitled Fear the Invisible Man, directed by Paul (The Curse of Hobbs House) Dudbridge, adapted by Philip Daay and Helena and Monika Gergelovam. It acts as a retelling of Wells' parable and a semi-sequel, recounting scenes from the novel and the 1933 adaptation through word-of-mouth relays (for one, mentioning what occurred in the famous, little town of Iping) and then constructing an alternate path to Joe May/Vincent Price's The Invisible Man Returns. 

As only expected, the story elevates its titular monster, Mike Beckingham's out-of-control Dr. Cade Griffin. Beckingham's sneering voice carries much of his performance, as it should, beyond those mandatory scenes of bandages, goggles and floating attire (plus a fleeting flash of fading muscle and bone, in homage to Paul Verhoeven/Kevin Bacon's Hollow Man). 

Beckingham has a partnering lead, Mhairi (Braveheart) Calvey as Adeline Kemp, an implied love interest for Griffin, though tied to him by his scientific links with her defunct spouse. In her own right, Ms. Kemp is science prone and empowered by her controversial, humanitarian efforts, a woman of principle and grace. 

The cast also features Wayne Gordon as the thorough Inspector Adye (a Frederick Aberline type, for all intent); Demelza O'Sullivan as Adeline's outspoken maid, Margaret; Emily Haigh as Adeline's unappreciated, other maid, Evie; Delroy Brown as the sedulous Bishop White; David Hickman as the adamant statesman, Mr. Wicksteed; Joe Tucker as the non-committed Mayor Edeson; and Grahame Fox as Thomas Marvel, a significant, supporting character in the book, who consumes a large portion of the movie.

Marvel, as in the novel, tends to Griffin's notebooks, but unlike in the novel, he holds a mind of his own mind, not wishing to return the doctor's notes (i.e. their "advantageous" secrets) to their owner for re-evaluation, in fear of the entity's rage, but more so, in hopes of using their formulaic power for his own. This then puts him at odds with Adeline, who also desires the contents, but prefers such for altruistic avenues.

Throughout Griffin's spree, Adeline bounces among the story's various men, often perceived as naïve. This allows Calvey's acting chops to shine. Her performance is impassioned, intrepid and when need be, sexy (in the best Victorian way), and it comes from her subtle glances, whispery tones and self-assured gait. She is an equivalent to Elizabeth Moss' Cecilia Kass in Lee Whannel's 2020, modernized, Invisible Man remake, though never as subjugated to her catch-him-if-you-can foe. 

In its basic structure, Fear ... is a taunting mystery (its wrongdoing projected from the outset, as in a Columbo murder case), fixed by a Dan Curtis/Ansel Faraj ambiance. Wells' motif, of pushing experimentation too far (for invisibility begets madness in Griffin's case), is evident, but the movie delves even deeper into its legendary roots, grazing the Gyges myth: Any man will do wrong if he thinks he will not be caught.

Of course, no conceited motive ever goes without dire consequences or incidental victims. Fear ... has more than its share, along with some opulent, period-piece settings, underscored by Alex Melcalfe's earth-toned photography and Alexander Arntzen's enshrouding score. It's a satisfying package, in other words, for those with a sincere interest in this sort of filmmaking. For those not inclined to embrace the adaptation's motivational splendor, it's best to skip this one and catch some kitschy, noncommittal foolery; alas, even the science-fiction genre has a hefty heap of it.