A haunted and haunting ‘Machinist’

Darkly rich in style and mood, “The Machinist” is like one of Andrew Vachss’ remorseless crime novels come to life, in which the focus is on intense loners living on the sidelines of big cities. Their lives are so stark and isolated that they seem like night people even in the light of day. For the most part the film is mesmerizing, with its star, Christian Bale, having lost 63 pounds to play the title role to assuredly disturbing effect, but its payoff, while clever and even ingenious, is not quite stunning enough to live up to a boldly bleak and unrelenting buildup.

However, Bale, always a nervy, risk-taking actor, gives a haunting performance of fierce concentration that goes beyond his dramatic weight loss.

Set largely in an industrial area of an unnamed nondescript city, the steely-hued film centers on the gaunt machinist of the film’s title, Trevor Reznik (Bale), an insomniac wasting way before our very eyes. Something is literally eating up Trevor, who seems at heart a decent, considerate man, but early on the film is so unsettling, so subtly surreal, that its opening shot, in which Trevor dumps a corpse into the sea, could well be a figment of his fevered imagination.

Trevor gets along well enough with his co-workers, although some find his increasingly emaciated appearance decidedly disturbing. They are at the mercy of a slave-driving foreman, and Trevor asks for trouble when he stands up for one of his co-workers (Michael Ironside). Not long after, another co-worker has been replaced by a ferocious-looking guy named Ivan (John Sharian), who with an evil smile makes a slicing gesture under his chin to signal that a slit throat awaits Trevor. Already inexplicably tormented, Trevor is now shoved into a 24/7 nightmare of fear and paranoia.

Director Brad Anderson and writer Scott Kosar chart Trevor’s disintegration while steadily moving toward a moment of truth as Trevor tries to nail down Ivan’s purpose and identity.

There are two bright spots, however, in Trevor’s life. One is Jennifer Jason Leigh as a prostitute with whom Trevor finds temporary solace. He in turn treats her with such tenderness and respect that she not only tells him she might give up hooking for the right guy but also makes it clear that he could be that guy. He also drives some distance regularly to an airport coffee shop simply to be served by a pretty, kindly waitress (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon).

The filmmakers stage the climax with a grand crescendo of visual and technical flurry, but their film might well have had greater resonance had they adhered to Alfred Hitchcock’s belief that suspense is more powerful when the audience is let in on what’s going on with the protagonist while the poor guy himself struggles.

In its bleak, violent atmosphere and driven hero, “The Machinist” somewhat resembles Gaspar Noe’s corrosive “I Stand Alone,” which has precisely the explosive climax that “The Machinist” lacks. (It also lacks a pitch-black absurdist sense of humor crucial to the effect of the Noe film.) Like a roller coaster ride, “The Machinist,” even though it is a cut above most movies, is a bit of a letdown at the wrap.

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‘The Machinist’

MPAA rating: Rated R for violence, disturbing images, sexuality and language

Times guidelines: Too brutal and intense for children

Christian Bale...Trevor Reznik

Jennifer Jason Leigh...Stevie

Aitana Sanchez-Gijon...Marie

John Sharian...Ivan

Michael Ironside...Miller

A Paramount Classics and Filmax Entertainment presentation. Director Brad Anderson. Producer Julio Fernandez. Executive producers Carlos Fernandez, Antonia Nava. Screenplay Scott Kosar. Cinematographer Xavi Gimenez. Editor Luis de la Madrid. Music Boque Banos. Costumes Patricia Monne. Production designer Alain Bainee. Set decorator Sylvia Steinbrecht. Running time: 1 hour, 42 minutes.

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