THE PERFECTION

THE PERFECTION is probably the best example of what’s wrong with modern screenwriting today. I was attracted to the story because I’m on a psychological-thriller kick that involves beautiful women gaslighting one another (see BLACK SWAN and PERFECT BLUE). 


This time out, we’re following a brilliant cellist (played by the extremely attractive Allison Williams) who had to give up her position at an extremely prestigious and private conservatory to care for her ailing mother. Close to a decade later, she’s ready to take her spot back, even if it means going through another brilliant cellist (played by the extremely attractive Logan Browning). 

Its first five minutes is brilliant in setting up character and motivation through visuals. Then it rolls-out an intriguing premise and an equally interesting path on how our main character’s going to achieve those motivations. The dialogue is good, all the characters seem interesting enough, the filmmakers play-on legitimate fears (like getting the trots on a public bus driving in the middle of nowhere). 

The setup is clever. Really clever. So clever, when the twist comes at the end of Act One, I was ready to give the Netflix score a thumb’s up so their crack team of analyzers could order more content from whoever-made-this-thing.

But then everything slowly nosedives into absolute ridiculousness. 

The characters lose focus of their motivation. Dialogue becomes hackneyed at best. Every clever twist set-up is overturned by an eye-rolling payoff. In fact, the longer the movie goes on, the dumber it gets. It’s like Charlie from FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON started writing a screenplay after his experimental treatment, and the script’s beats follow his descent back to his post-surgery self. Even the acting starts stinking to high heaven: actors who were decent and believable in the first act start delivering their lines like they’ve been possessed by the performers of RED, WHITE AND BLAINE (beat that reference!)

I have no idea how something so promising went so wrong. Okay, maybe it’s not Kevin Smith TUSK bad, but let’s face it, few things are.