THE STORY – A Harvard student becomes the Unabomber after psychological experiments. Years later, an FBI agent’s pursuit reveals how his past shaped his deadly campaign that killed 3 and injured 23 from 1978-1995.
THE CAST – Russell Crowe, Jacob Tremblay, Shailene Woodley, Annabelle Wallis, Alexander Ludwig, Steven Ogg & Marc Menchaca
THE TEAM – Janus Metz (Director), Sam Chalsen & Nelson Greaves (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 97 Minutes
Society will never truly be able to rid itself, it seems, of the fascination it has with those individuals who tormented communities on a large scale. The endless release of projects about criminals who went on wide-spanning terror sprees has yet to show any sign of ceasing, as it has already provided a new line of income for people like Ryan Murphy and his crew. It’s understandable, of course. People fear these individuals but also desperately want an insight into their psychology. The horror is both repellent and alluring, offending our sensibilities while also intriguing our curiosities to comprehend what could possibly drive a person to do such monstrous acts. The crimes of Ted Kaczynski have already had a long history of examination, and “Unabomber” is yet another attempt to depict this analysis of a disturbed man and his capture. However, it does so in perhaps the most tedious and uninspired method yet, creating a mundane and unfulfilling exploration.
The film lays out two paths of history. One of them glances back to the past, when a young Kaczynski (Jacob Tremblay) was enrolled at Harvard and took an interest in philosophy courses. One of his professors, Henry Murray (Russell Crowe), takes an interest in his young student and invites him to participate in a clinical experiment that will stimulate his mind on the subject. It will come to influence the activities he would commit decades later, sending packages with bombs through the mail as a means to protest the growing industrialization around the globe. The FBI is already on the case, and Agent Joanne Miller (Shailene Woodley) has been recently brought in to determine his psychological profile. It is her investigation that will lead to his eventual capture. As she attempts to put the pieces together of what mentally drives him, the portrait of how his perspective was shaped early on also plays out, giving a deeper understanding of how the madness was forged.
At least, that’s what we’re supposed to glean from this story. But the script by Sam Chalsen and Nelson Greaves doesn’t really devote that much time to either side of this showcase to adequately explore that dichotomy. There are two running tracks here: the young Ted who is just forming the psychopathy that would drive him to commit his heinous actions in adulthood, and the federal investigation that would ultimately lead to his arrest. Neither side is given enough of an opportunity to really flourish on their own and make much of an impact. His time at Harvard only ever shows glimpses on the surface, demonstrating his social anxiety that would eventually morph into his widespread disgust for humanity, but never reveling in any moment to truly explore that ideology. There are some glimpses that are more interesting, like a romantic development that he is afraid to pursue despite the girl he’s talking to having the same intellectual interests as him. However, the moment quickly passes by because most of the focus is on the relationship between Ted and his professor. Their relationship keeps Murray’s interest in this student vague initially, but once the actual motive becomes clear, it doesn’t particularly deepen their tie to one another in a meaningful way either.
The investigation playing out in the 1990s also isn’t very compelling. Once again, the issue is time. Because of the split nature of the narrative, Miller’s task feels abridged and quite banal, though the same can be said of the other section of the story as well. Not enough time is devoted to the meticulous process of analyzing the evidence, speaking with witnesses, and connecting the loose threads together that leads to a satisfying breakthrough in the case. There’s a conflict introduced between her and another investigator that is meant to cause some internal friction, but ends up feeling so forced and unnecessary. As a mystery thriller, it falls completely flat, including what is meant to be the suspenseful capture that instead lands like a wet blanket. The character study focusing on a young Kaczynski doesn’t probe deep enough into his psyche to be captivating, and the process leading to his capture is so blandly presented and not engrossing in the slightest.
Occasionally, director Janus Metz tries to liven up the scenery with a few flourishes in the filmmaking. Most of it includes obvious choices like coating any scene in the 1950s with a brownish tint because anything related to sepia tone lazily codes for “the past.” The only other artistic quality he brings to this section is during the experiments, in which Kaczynski is fitted with a bunch of wires to measure his biometrics while engaged in intense debate. The conversations themselves aren’t particularly absorbing, but Metz does use harsh lighting and sounds to emphasize the discomfort and building tension. It’s not all that impressive, but it’s more effective than any scene including the FBI. One isn’t expecting David Fincer’s “Zodiac” necessarily, but the direction is so plain and unremarkable. Even the moment when Miller first stumbles onto Ted’s property and is almost caught plays out so slowly that all the anxiety meant to be built up quickly dissipates. Much of the storytelling relies on telling the audience about the feelings of these characters or the motivations at play, but actually showcasing such emotions hardly ever comes across onscreen in an impactful way.
Tremblay offers a different perspective on Kaczynski, a character who has seen his fair share of interpretations throughout the years. There isn’t anything resembling the recognizable gruff persona that the general public is aware of, which does offer the potential for a more provocative portrait. However, his performance doesn’t evoke that much allure, even though his more fiery diatribes are the more enticing sequences. While he is able to capture the rageful discontent that surges through the character, he’s not written in a way that gives his portrayal any real definition beyond the surface. The same is said for Crowe. While he’s often found great success in the latter part of his career indulging in wonderful character actor tendencies, he offers very little in terms of screen presence here. It’s a flat and wooden performance that does not call upon him to use his skillset. But at least he’s more interesting to watch than Woodley, greatly hamstrung by her weak material. As the guiding force of her storyline, there is next to nothing that defines her characterization and she doesn’t even really embody the obsessive dedication such a person would need to exhibit for the task at hand. It’s a perfunctory role that ultimately comes across as very disposable.
“Unabomber” presents the audience with two different scenarios in which to perceive this notorious character in history. There is both a character study that observes him as a young man and tracks his evolution into how we currently perceive him, as well as the national manhunt that was conducted to bring him to justice. Each has their own merits, but there is essentially no proper amount of time given to make either one significantly riveting. The screenplay does very little to give real insight into this personality, and the filmmaking does not do much to compensate for this deficiency. The cast is adequate at best, and it all results in such a middling and forgettable effort. This surely will not be the last excursion into the life of this man, but hopefully others will find more success than this one tried to mine.
