by Jon Partridge
High-Rise opens with Doctor Robert Laing (Tom Hiddleston) eating a roasted dog’s leg, living in a squalid apartment. A flashback to three months earlier shows his arrival at his new home, a state of the art (in the ’80s anyway) high-rise tower block. Home to people of all social classes, the more affluent you are the higher up you can afford, from a family scraping by on the first floor to the penthouse suite, home to Anthony Royal (Jeremy Irons), the building’s architect (in more ways than one). Across the floors are a school, grocery store, and swimming pool. In essence the building houses an entire community and everything it needs. Laing resides smack in the middle, our entry to this world. Neither privileged upper class nor wanting for much like the lower classes, his position as a doctor commands respect and comfort but not extravagant wealth. His detached airs make him the perfect audience surrogate through which to witness the collapse of this grand social experiment.
Despite being welcomed by people throughout the building, including socialite Charlotte Melville (Sienna Miller), lower level documentarian Richard Wilder (Luke Evans), his pregnant wife Helen (Elisabeth Moss), and Royal himself, Laing’s arrival coincides with increased tensions between the floors. The rich resent the presence of the hoi polloi in the communal areas whilst the less affluent find themselves going without basic amenities such as electric and running water. Tensions rise, petty acts turn into violence, and soon, sealed off from the outside world, the community descends into absolute anarchy.
High-Rise is chaotic and yet stunningly polished. From the opening there is a bold confidence to Wheatley’s direction, highlighted by a wonderful dream sequence where Laing dances through a corridor with some air stewardesses: one impressive flourish among many.
Wheatley and writing partner Amy Jump craft a wonderful world for shit to hit the fan. Their decision to shift the source novel’s setting to the ’80s pays off massively. Thatcher’s influence is all over the film, which does render a rather heavy handed coda unnecessary. The rampant consumerism and repression of the lower classes mirror the prescient work of Ballard.
Comparisons have been made online to Snowpiercer, which is frankly lazy. That film threw two distinct social classes at each other. High-Rise is about the breakdown of a whole society, the tower-block serving as a microcosm. Civility gives way to selfishness. Rules are suspended and the remaining priorities show off the distinction between the people left standing, with their contrasting needs of “booze, canapes, and cocktail onions” against more pressing concerns of power and water. As with the fall of Rome and the French revolution, if you press hard enough on the downtrodden masses, they will push back.
The film brings to mind the works of Cronenberg and Kubrick, ironic as the former was director of the last Ballard adaptation, Crash, back in 1996. But Wheatley succeeds in showing off his own talents. It’s gritty in parts as you’d expect, but at times shows a grace to his composition, perfectly contrasting the different aspects of this building and its people. The dark comic streak that worked so well in Sightseers is ever-present here. It’s a playfully demented trip following the degradation of a society.
The ’70s/’80s setting offers up brilliant visuals, starting with the imposing, brutalist architecture of the High-rise, itself a character in the film. This contrasts with its interiors, which run the gamut from a gaudy penthouse to spartan chambers to overly chintzy home. Retro styling with clever baroque elements to highlight the upper classes, something also folded into musical choices and events. It’s a sumptuous and fascinating piece of production design.
The soundtrack is destined to be one of the year’s best. Clint Mansell’s classical-inspired score is littered with ’80s influences. The film is underpinned by different iterations of Abba’s S.O.S., notably via cover by Portishead, an unexpected but masterful choice.
There is a wonderful assortment of predominantly British actors: Jeremy Irons, Reese Shearsmith, Sienna Miller, James Purefoy, Keely Hawes, and the always welcome Elizabeth Moss go a long way to giving the film its distinct character. Luke Evans gives a bull-like performance, rampaging through the tower block, and if you didn’t have a thing for Tom Hiddleston before, you will after watching. Overall it’s a stunningly measured and affecting piece of work.
It’s not a perfect descent into anarchy; the buildup is superior to the breakdown. A lack of contrast between the individual floors makes it seem more like a top vs. bottom situation, whereas in the book it’s far more nuanced. It doesn’t quite tread the fine line between civility and anarchy that the book does, or topple over it as deftly, but it’s still a hell of a ride.
High-Rise is everything you could ever want from a J.G. Ballard adaptation, and a perfect marriage of his work with the talents of Wheatley. Dark, disturbing and delectable. An audacious piece of filmmaking.
