Welcome to the 2015 winter dead-zone, where the studios are so spent from their respective Oscar Season blowouts that they feel safe enough to release the heaping mounds of filth neither blockbuster-ey enough for summer nor award bait-ey enough for fall. This is when stuff like Blackhat, Mortdecai, Seventh Son, and indeed The Loft comes out, because at time of writing the actual Oscars haven’t happened yet, meaning that everyone’s still caught up in the speculation and not really paying too much attention to new releases.
The history of The Loft is an interesting one. The film, directed by Belgian filmmaker Erik Van Looy, is based on a 2008 Belgian film simply titled Loft, also directed by Van Looy. At time of release, Loft enjoyed generally positive reviews and, in fact, proved to be the most commercially successful Flemish film ever made. Apparently not content to leave well enough alone, Van Looy was determined to remake a not particularly old film for an American audience and, spoiler alert: it’s absolute shit.
Now, I haven’t seen Loft and I don’t really care to after having seen The Loft, but surely the story had been told adequately well the first time round. It’s not like the tech had vastly improved in the intervening six years, so honestly, why even bother? More money, probably; but the fact that the project inexplicably attracted a handful of high-profile talent and still managed to suck is really a marvel. Karl Urban, James Marsden, and Eric Stonestreet star and, as a big Karl Urban fan myself, I hate to see these otherwise adroit actors flounder through this poorly written mess of a film.
The original story—the Belgian version, that is—was written by Flemish comedian and screenwriter Bart De Pauw, though the screenwriting credits in the remake are afforded to De Pauw and another gentleman by the name of Wesley Strick. Strick, responsible for a number of B-horror/thriller films is, in short, a hack. One of my major problems with the film is that the dialogue sounds as though it was written by someone with no conception of human interaction. Every line of dialogue seems forced and unnatural and conversations flow like a cement waterfall. Frequently, we have entire exchanges where characters just spout exposition at one another, engagement of the audience be damned.
It’s ridiculous! They expect us to care about these characters and become invested in their struggles, but the problem is that there are not characters! There’s just a bunch a passionless cyphers with precisely one character trait apiece, trying to weave their ways through what could laughingly be called a plot. I can generally dig it when movies ask us to suspend our disbelief—that’s the fun of the movies, after all—but the “twist” ending in The Loft was so jarringly out of nowhere and relied on a huge number of assumptions and coincidences, and that’s that kind of thing that really takes me out of movies.
Like Blackhat, The Loft tries to incorporate this slick and modernistic visual style with lots and grays and dark-blues, and lots of semi-transparent glass panes, but also like Blackhat, the film seems to neglect the notion that a compelling visual effects only works when there are interesting characters to populate the world. Remember: visual effects are used to tell a story; a story, alternatively, SHOULD NOT be used to tell visual effects.
All in all, The Loft is a one big, stinking mess from beginning to end. It’s a dull, uninspired death-march across an unforgiving landscape littered with clumsy dialogue and lifeless characters. Why does this film exist when the film that inspired it was, and still is, perfectly serviceable? Beats me. But maybe don’t waste your time with this one.
Rating: 2 out of 5