A frazzled executive tracks down his missing CEO to a luxury spa perched atop the Swiss Alps – but all is not as it seems in paradise…
The premise is more than a little familiar. In fact, as far as horror is concerned, it is quite literally a tale as old as the genre itself – a dyed in the wool skeptic is dispatched to a secluded and mysterious institute where the staff appear to be concealing a sinister secret. Inevitably, the nature of sanity is called into question as the once cocksure outsider finds himself losing his grip reality. It’s a tried and tested set up that has proven itself time and time again (see also Shutter Island, The Ninth Configuration and seminal masterpiece The Cabinet of Dr Caligari). While the premise itself is less than fresh, the journey towards the final reveal offers a chance for a fascinating ride as the sinister truth is dizzyingly unraveled.
Unfortunately, A Cure for Wellness fails to make use of the opportunity. The stage is set expertly, drawing inspiration from some of horrors most atmospheric classics. Dane DeHaan, an over-achieving and visibly exhausted executive type, is tasked by his firm with retrieving a wayward board member from an enigmatic clinic nestled away among the Swiss Alps. As he arrives, he is met with the usual characters – the menacing staff casting threatening glares, the patients wandering the grounds almost in a trance, and the head of the institute giving more than a little indication that he is perhaps on the wrong end of the stethoscope.
The first act does well to slather on the tension as DeHaan finds himself forced to extend his stay the luxury health spa-cum-insane asylum. A few old tricks (a little Dracula here, a dash of Misery there) while recognisable are weaved into something new and create a palpable atmosphere of dread that hangs heavily in the air of every scene.
Disappointingly, despite the careful placement of so many promising pieces around the board, the rest of the film fails to live up to its opening. As DeHaan peels back the layers of the institute and searches the basement for the truth behind its all-too perfect facade, the film meanders through its second act. The plot trails off into different directions and compulsively repeats itself as DeHaan skulks around secret labs filled with pickled homunculi six or seven times too many.
By the time the climax lurches into view, the pacing is utterly demolished. It doesn’t help that, for its finale, the film takes a sharp left turn into tacky melodrama that completely undoes what little remains of the first act’s hard work.
Gore Verbinski’s take on a classic horror trope ultimately shows itself to be all mouth and no trousers. What starts as a promisingly creepy genre piece trips itself up during a bloated second act and falls flat at the finale.
2/5
Allen On Film 