HOLLOW MAN

"That fascinating concept of invisibility has beguiled us for years, and the possibilities under the awesome baton of director Paul Verhoeven are endless, particularly with the marvels of today's technologies. Verhoeven's Hollow Man is an awesome display of mind-boggling dazzling effects – from elusive, watery shadows to the actual extraordinary process when flesh and bone mutate and become invisible. These startling effects coupled with a dense orchestral score create a chilling mood, and are enough to tantalise us into a world of uncertainty. The social and moral issues are perhaps less effecting, as Sebastian's transition is not that of Dr Jekyl to Mr Hyde. Sebastian is an ego-maniac from the start; it would have been far more effective had we had seen his character change and watch his dark side grow as the temptations of power overwhelm him. Kevin Bacon is commendable in the role, impressing with his distinctive well-toned voice, yet I would have been interested to see an actor such as Jeremy Irons, whose dark side could preside and impose. Elizabeth Shue is terrific; she is our lifeline, the person with whom we can identify best. But the characterisations are pretty shallow and the scientists are oh so cool about the proceedings; it's not until the second half of the film that the emotions and responses become more credible. The concept of playing God, examining human behaviour when life goes beyond the structure of social and moral rules to me is the seductive area of contention, and that which exercises our minds. It's certainly the tale of a mad scientist, albeit not the one it could have been. It's haunting, at times gripping and blood flows aplenty. The effects are as complex as the genetic code from which we are made; for those alone, The Hollow Man is worth visiting."
Louise Keller

"Paul Verhoeven is among those Hollywood directors who's able to take mainstream genres (such as the sci-fi thriller) and inflect them in striking, personal ways. In Verhoeven's case, what comes through, beyond his filmmaking craft, is a heavy, jeering wit and a ferocious ambivalance. His movies are filled with brutal, gloating sex and violence, and while this clearly disgusts Verhoeven it just as clearly turns him on. While many movies combine art and trash in this way, Verhoeven's work is unusual in its sheer self-consciousness. Fascinated with itself and what it's doing, it's able to induce a similar queasy fascination in the viewer. Admittedly Hollow Man isn't anywhere near as provocative as the spectacular Starship Troopers - but despite a relatively conventional script, it's unmistakably a Verhoeven film, one which uses the theme of invisibility in half a dozen striking and characteristic ways. It's essentially a chamber piece - literally so, since most of the action takes place in a giant underground laboratory built of concrete and stainless steel. This cool, metallic, sealed world is a typical Verhoeven setting: however full of breasts and blood his movies get, they retain an elegant distance, as if the bodies of his characters were being put on display for purposes of science. Thus, in the scene where Sebastian first becomes invisible, his body disappears layer by layer, like an exhibit in a museum: first his skin peels off, then his internal organs vanish, till all that can be seen is his bare skeleton, which (as the title implies) is all this obnoxious would-be superman has at his core. The emptiness of the hero ties in with the film's Hitchcockian interest in voyeurism and point-of-view. As Verhoeven underlines for us, an invisible man is in roughly the position of a moviegoer: someone who can see, but can't himself be seen. But what does it mean to see from the perspective of an invisible (or hollow) man? How can we identify with a hero if we don't even know where (or who) he is?"
Jake Wilson