High Rise (2015)
There was a certain flavor to '70s dystopian media that seemed enamored with the gradual decay of society via its own inventions, an almost anti-consumerist stance on technological advancement that relished in its short-term nihilism as western culture changed from the Greatest Generation to the Baby Boomers. The usual themes of class warfare and the individual's reaction to such swift societal "progress" come to mind in this film based on the 1975 JG Ballard novel of the same name, with obvious political allegories abound and a unique sense of style and flare used to virtual perfection at key moments.

Dr. Robert Laing (Tom Hiddleston) is a new tenant in the latest high rise apartment complex built by world-renowned architect Anthony Royal (Jeremy Irons). Upon his first meetings with his upstairs neighbor, Charlotte (Sienna Miller), and his various interactions with the other tenants throughout his daily routine, it becomes increasingly apparent that the lavish parties between the lower 30 floors and the aristocratic pageantry of the upper 10 serve as little more than distractions from the different classes having to communicate. Laing soon meets Richard Wilder (Luke Evans), a documentary filmmaker and husband to the ever-pregnant Helen (Elizabeth Moss), immediately recognizing his short temper and self-destructive tendencies, particularly when it comes to interacting with the "upper echelon" of the high rise, primarily TV news anchor Cosgrove (Peter Ferdinando) and self-absorbed businessman Pangbourne (James Purefoy). As Laing wanders about his daily life, indulging in the same excesses as those around him, he soon begins to witness the cracks starting to form. Brief power outages, explained by Royal as "the building's teething," heighten the already existing social unrest between the floors, until a birthday party for one of the Wilder's children turns into a full-on confrontation between the classes, with Richard crashing a private function in the tower's swimming pool leading to increasingly violent opposition.

Director Ben Wheatley beautifully shoots the building's descent into madness through Laing's perspective, with stylish framing/editing techniques blending brilliantly to highlight the general joviality of the building's early days and dark, primal, claustrophobic shots as the chaos unfolds. There is as much, if not more, visual storytelling on display as there are in the scripted narrative, with choice alterations of each character's attire (or lack thereof) highlighting their former and newer roles within the building, done particularly well whenever Laing interacts with Royal and the upper echelon as an almost dream-like presence permeates simple shots. In fact, you learn everything you need to know about Laing as a character in the first ten minutes of the film: he rarely allows himself to be seen not in a suit and tie, he refuses to unpack his belongings from their cardboard prisons inside his apartment, and he visibly struggles to relate to his neighbors unless sex or alcohol are in great supply. The violence is shown in a similar manner to Green Room, with the occasional graphic depiction rarely lingered on so that the shock value remains with you as a viewer. Topping this off, the performances by all of the principal cast - from Hiddleston to Miller and back again - are pitch perfect, with Luke Evans standing out due to the weight on the shoulders of Richard Wilder as a character.

There are plenty of faults to find, however. The nigh 2-hour runtime has moments where it drags and you're left wanting something, anything, to happen, but are then "treated" to more dialogue and/or montage footage of the events occurring. There seem to be several subplots left only vaguely touched, possibly delved further into in the original novel, and the climax comes from left field with characters turning against their allies without much prompting or reason. Through it all, one massive plot hole remains, the kind of that can potentially cripple whether or not the film impacts you: why does nobody leave the fucking building? Were this a Romero film, there would be hordes of the flesh-eating dead outside the doors, forcing the cast to remain inside, but several characters come and go as they please, returning each day from their jobs without even a throwaway "this is my home" comment to give them reason to.

Overall, if you're looking for some great performances and a nifty little piece of sociological critique, you can do a lot worse. High Rise at least feels like a complete film, even if the adaptation from the source material (where some of these issues may be resolved in a more fulfilling manner) leaves something to be desired. 7/10