Review by Eric Hillis
Directed by: David Harari
Starring: Michael Ursu, Asa Fris, Kelly Pantaleoni, Sophia Guillen
On paper, the premise of Processing Charlie suggests a throwback to the sort of psycho-thrillers that were popular in the '90s (you might reductively label it "Single White Male"). But writer/director David Harari's feature debut also resembles a modern take on the wave of Psycho imitators that arrived courtesy of low budget filmmakers in the '60s. There is a lot of Hitchcock here, but also a bit of William Castle in its commendable willingness to embrace schlock.
Like Vertigo, Processing Charlie features a protagonist who has been left mentally scarred by a traumatic past event, and a villain who takes advantage of their weakness. A decade ago Charlie (Michael Ursu) lost his nine-year-old sister in a horrific car accident. The event resulted in Charlie losing much of his memory regarding that era of his life. It is now affecting his marriage to his Australian wife Anika (Kelly Pantaleoni) - she desperately wants to have kids but Charlie is reluctant for fear of losing another loved one. Jimmy Stewart couldn't climb stairs; Charlie can't enter his late sister's bedroom.
Just as Anika walks out on Charlie, into his life and home comes Cole (Asa Fris), a country bumpkin who claims to be his cousin. Charlie has no memory of ever meeting Cole, but Cole has a photo of Charlie, Cole and Charlie's late sister, so Charlie puts it down to his fractured memory. Cole is an oddball to say the least, resembling an elongated Jerry Lewis. But hey, he's family, so Charlie allows him to move in until he gets his feet on the ground in the big city.
Processing Charlie is a slow burn home invasion thriller, one that avoids simplistic characterisations despite its use of recognisable thriller genre archetypes. Cole isn't simply a stock psycho. Like Anthony Perkins so famously did with Norman Bates, Fris makes us feel sorry for Cole, who appears deeply uncomfortable in his skin. With Charlie a far from likeable protagonist (we find ourselves rooting for Anika to get away from both of these men), the movie cleverly toys with our allegiances. At several points Harari pulls off the Hitchcock trick of skilfully manipulating us into momentarily identifying with Cole, even while he's up to no good. When Cole does something that is both reprehensible and risky, our focus is on the risk element, and we identify with the fear of being caught even while recognising that Cole absolutely needs to be caught.
Contrary to its title, we spend much of Processing Charlie trying to figure Cole out. Is he really Charlie's cousin? Is he really as slow and naive as he makes out. Fris's performance ensures little is given away. He plays the role like an alien posing as a human, and the way Cole figures certain things out is like watching a chimp solve a puzzle for a reward of peanuts. While we feel a little sorry for the big galoot, especially when he's cruelly mocked by Charlie and his cadre of urban sophisticates, he's also deeply unsettling. Chimps are cute and cuddly, but they'll also rip your head off if they feel like it.
Harari's script hits some of the expected psycho-thriller beats, but Processing Charlie has a personality of its own. Its quotidian suburban backdrop makes it easier to relate to than the aspirational settings of the '90s "yuppies in peril" thrillers. It takes place in a modest home that quickly feels cramped with the intrusion of the increasingly unwanted Cole. Charlie and Anika's disastrous marriage adds an extra layer to the drama, and helps us believe that they're so distracted they fail to recognise just what a threat Cole poses.
The uncomplicated monochrome cinematography adds to the sense that we're in a recognisably mundane setting, that we could easily find ourselves in a similar scenario. It's only in the climax that things take a turn into the realm of the fantastical, but the film has done such a good job of getting us to that point that we buy the shocking turn. A final grisly reveal will have you wondering if Processing Charlie's title is a cheeky nod to the one of the less beloved thrillers of the '90s.
