Satisfying, Taut and Precise

Rating: 10/10 (27 February 2013)

Homage is such an inadequate term.
If you truly love something, a person or a thing or an idea or an art form, you will strive to plant yourself in the rich soil from which it sprang, and strive to bring forth the same or even better fruit. This is how I try and view that thing that others call "homage" when they compare movies like this to Hitchcock.
"The Machinist" is beyond Hitchcock, the same way that Lynch, Coppola and Tarantino are beyond Hitchcock and I don't think I can put it better than that.
I became a Brad Anderson fan the instant I completed my first viewing of "Happy Accidents" nearly a decade ago on IFC. When you feed from the vast trough of U-S media, you remember and cherish the rare times that true brilliance races through you and past you in a great teleplay. I was enchanted by the way Anderson's tale of time travel, and longing and loss, and loneliness were all handled and resolved. The story pushed the boundaries of suspended-disbelief to new limits, yet via the artist's talent it landed from that great height like the greatest ballet dancer, gently on the tip of a single toe.
Only the best of Chris Carter's "X Files" pull off this same outrageous fulfillment of the transaction between artist and patron with such power and grace.
Happily, "The Machinist" while radically different from "Happy Accidents," is every bit the equal and superior of the best films to which it is compared. And I would go further and derive more comparisons, not to detract from the work but to celebrate its sublime balance and power.
A previous commenter pointed out the bifurcation of reality, where the dreamworld pops in and out of Resnick's constant waking life. There were echoes of Lynch in the pause that occurs with each reach for the cigarette lighter, each look at the clock at 1:30, felt in the way that each pause evokes the deja-vu of dreams.
There was Hitchcock homage in the sense of unending and unresolvable tension. You suspect a nod to Coppola (and Brando) as you look at Ivan and wonder to yourself what Colonel Kurtz would have done after the war, had he lived.
And there is over all of it, the constant and obvious excellence of Christian Bale, doing what few if any others could ever do; fitting his every molecule to the role of Trevor Resnick. THAT sets this film apart and puts it where not many others will ever go.
I cannot stress enough the importance of seeing this film, and unlike others who have said they probably won't endure it again, I will see it again and relish its greatness again. Join me.