I'll open with a warning: as fond as I am of "The Broken," I suspect few others will share my enthusiasm. Lots will like it, a few will hate it (particularly the ending), but it is so tailored towards my not always conventional horror movie ideals that few will admire it the way I do. Also, my nonexistent expectations probably colored my response a bit. (I've watched it twice now and enjoyed it no less the second time, but the initial impression can last even in later viewings.) So consider this a caveat for my readers, if any.
"The Broken" is perhaps the most praised entry in the years After Dark Film Festival set (faint praise, no doubt), and is a brief, extremely stylish and moody exercise in low-key horror. Make no mistake, those looking for visceral horror will be met with lengthy, near silent scenes where the disturbed protagonists wanders about the empty apartment, trying to understand her peculiar situation. (The moments of overt horror are effective, but rare, though perhaps too melodramatic for some tastes.) The tactics are drawn straight from the moody horror handbook: blue filter, rain, strangely empty streets, slow, creeping camera movements, rumbling music, ominously symbolic imagery (broken glass) etc. That said, the execution is remarkably adroit, and director Ellis maintains are air of uncertainty all throughout the film. (The performances are also solid, though not much is expected of them.) The film plays as something of a cross between Invasion of the Body Snatchers (doppelgangers, paranoia issues) and The Ring (the visuals, emphasis on mood), and manages to combine the two approaches so as to avoid redundancy. Many will still accuse it of being a rip-off of something or other, but that's usually a lazy, non-analytic criticism. Most genre pics just recycle the tropes--that's what they're supposed to do, for the most part.
The story is simple: one night a grown family living in London meet for a pleasant birthday dinner for the father, though one interrupted by the ominous shattering of a large mirror sitting opposite the dinner table. The daughter Gina (Lena Headey) soon finds her life has gone awry, as she, the next day, spots a mysterious, identical woman driving along the road. Gina follows her to an apartment containing apparent emblems from her life (a photo of her (?) and her father (?)) then drives off distraught, only to crash her jeep and land in the hospital. She cannot remember the details of her crash, though she is upset by the memory of her double, and comes to believe that the now strangely cold and distant Stephan is not her boyfriend. Even worse, the plague of doubles appears to spread throughout the city, as observed by other family members.
The story is, again, minimal, though it uses themes I particularly like, and I enjoy how it refuses to explain or contextualize itself excessively. It's like the best horror short stories, where we just slip through the real world and into an eerie variant where terrors lurk. (A mirror shatters, and suddenly nothing is the same anymore.) This is perhaps my favorite sort of horror, and no film I've seen in recent memory evokes it better than "The Broken." Some, however, will view it as all mood and no payoff, and that's a position I can respect, if not agree with. (Its being a scant 83 minutes, minus the credits, helps on this front.)
It is, however, impossible to fully consider "The Broken" w/o mentioning the ending. In short, I think it works, but I need to go into more detail, particularly to explain to those who've seen the film and didn't like it why I did appreciate it. Those who do not want the ending revealed should skip this paragraph. Last chance to move on . . . Okay, now that we've gotten rid of the others, here goes: It is finally revealed that who we believe is Gina through most of the pic is, in fact, her doppelganger. When Gina entered the apartment (her own apartment) the double kills her and drives off. She crashes, though, and loses her recent memories, along with having her personality temporarily altered by the bruising. This is a somewhat contrived conclusion, but I love one aspect: it refuses to sellout the premise of the movie. In films like these, it always turns out that the protagonist was delusional in some way, thus negating the supernatural. Ellis plays up this angle, leads us down the path and then inverts it: the main character is delusional, but in a way that reinforces the supernatural reality of the film, rather than subverting it. Thus, though a bit contrived, it works beautifully on a kind of metafictional level. Perhaps more to the point, the endings in these films are rarely inspired; the films should be about the mood generated by the mystery, not the solution. Those who are angered by it should remember this, and reflect on how hackneyed and obvious the revelatory endings to all the other mysterious horror pics they've seen were.
Anyway, this was a very pleasant surprise. Even those who disagree on the effectiveness of the ending should be able to appreciate the moody, paranoid ambience of the rest, provided they admire that kind of thing. Check it out.
Grade: A-