A psychological thriller can only go one of two ways—astounding success or abject failure. Every piece of the puzzle must come together in the end, the build-up to the ultimate reveal being propelled by unmistakable momentum. Director Danny Boyle masterfully achieves this feat with Trance, his fascination with both visual and metaphorical fragmentation showing through in every scene and suspense pervading every line.
Grounded in the high-stakes atmosphere of the art auction world, the film tracks the consequences of a heist gone wrong. Simon (James McAvoy) is a dreamy-eyed art thief who’s managed to lose the Goya painting he stole, having suffered a bout of amnesia after being hit on the head in flight from the crime scene.
Pressured by his fellow criminals—a group of thugs led by the captivating Frank (Vincent Cassel)—to recover the memory, he begins visiting a beautiful hypnotherapist, Elizabeth (Rosario Dawson), who guides him through a series of exercises to jog his memory. What he can’t possibly know, however, is the role she plays in it.
Deeply interested in the dynamics of the human mind, Trance peels back the layers of Simon’s consciousness in tantalizing segments, reflecting Boyle’s consistent focus on both the beauty and the madness within his protagonists. Echoing the structure of 2008’s Slumdog Millionaire, the riveting narrative is driven by a character returning in pieces to his past and simultaneously offering up a fragmented picture of his identity.
An expert at portraying the human condition, Boyle examines its darker side here, attempting to understand exactly what drives people to destruction. In the same way the director explored the nature of addiction in 1996’s Trainspotting, he delves into dense psychological waters. If the film has one weakness, however, it’s the inability to sympathize with the central character or even relate to his incredibly flawed humanity.
Simon’s internal disorientation and perversion are mirrored in the cinematography, the obtuse angles and repeated shots of fragmented, colored reflections suggesting that the self is equally discordant and scattered. James McAvoy is a riveting actor to watch, his measured voice and initial confusion devolving into something more frightening.
The true star of the film, as becomes clear the first moment she appears, is Dawson, whose Elizabeth commands every scene with unwavering calm. At first a severe and controlling therapist with a tight bun and dowdy clothes, she progressively becomes more vulnerable, even appearing entirely nude in one scene as homage to an artistic subject. But she never loses her power.
Without ever losing its pure entertainment value, Trance remains true to its title by holding the audience in its unrelenting clutches. What’s more, it’s impossible to deny, until the end comes and the rapture is broken.
