Reptile: A Plodding Murder Mystery

Some thrillers rely on mood to captivate audiences, but Reptile takes it to a whole new level. This nearly two-and-a-half-hour film maintains a constant state of hushed unease, with every scene oozing with a sense of foreboding. The perpetually “tense music” in the background only amplifies the vague sense of dread. Whether it’s a man walking into a building or a couple dancing at a bar, everything feels ominous. However, this suffocating atmosphere becomes tedious after a while, losing its impact like a repetitive cry for help.

A Sinister Opening

Despite its shortcomings, Reptile does begin strongly. The opening minutes effectively immerse viewers in the seemingly idyllic lives of Summer Elswick (Matilda Lutz) and her boyfriend, Will Grady (Justin Timberlake), two young real estate agents living in New England. The overcast lighting hints at an impending storm, and Juice Newton’s “Angel of the Morning” tantalizingly builds up on the soundtrack, only to be abruptly cut off by an opening door. The film’s first true shock arrives when Will discovers Summer brutally murdered, with the title dramatically obscuring the gruesome scene.

A Slow Investigation with an Array of Suspects

Veteran detective Tom “Oklahoma” Nichols (Benicio del Toro) takes on the case, gradually uncovering the truth. The pool of suspects is small but intriguingly filled with potential criminals. Will’s emotions remain inscrutable, making him a person of interest. Summer’s ex-husband (Karl Glusman) matches the police sketch of a stereotypical dirtbag, and local townie Eli Phillips (Michael Pitt), who holds a grudge against the Grady family, becomes another suspicious figure. Pitt’s portrayal adds to the disconcerting ambiance, reminiscent of his previous unsettling roles. Whether Eli is the culprit or just a red herring adds tension to the narrative.

A David Fincher Imitation

As a first-time feature director, Grant Singer fits the profile of someone experienced in music videos. His focus on visual aesthetics surpasses the seamless flow of the story from one shot to the next. The film’s editing, shadowy lighting, and occasional dives into file cabinets all contribute to its Fincher-esque imitation. However, Reptile often feels like a loose homage to Fincher’s work, with a lack of clarity and precision in its execution.

This movie could really use a Gillian Flynn pass. It has the veneer of a Fincherian procedural, but not the density of clues or complications or studiously observed lead-chasing. Singer, who also cowrote the screenplay, portentously stretches out his ho-hum mystery, which gets less interesting the closer the detective comes to solving it. (The biggest revelation, the one that cracks the whole case, is uncovered thanks to laughable carelessness on the guilty party’s part.) Padding out the protracted runtime are scenes of the detective’s intersecting personal and professional lives. That his wife, played by Alicia Silverstone, is an encouraging, unofficial partner is a nice subversion of police-movie convention. A more playful thriller might have some fun with their dynamic instead of folding it into the general gloom.

Impressive Craft and Engaging Performances

Reptile does have some redeeming qualities worth mentioning. Cinematographer Mike Gioulakis, known for his work on films by Jordan Peele, David Robert Mitchell, and M. Night Shyamalan, successfully creates an atmosphere of creeping menace. His keen eye captures the dark underbelly of suburban life. Additionally, the performances in Reptile elevate the film. Benicio del Toro, in particular, captivates with his subdued yet compelling portrayal of Detective Tom Nichols. Whether it’s his restrained reactions or the threat he poses to those who come too close to his wife, there’s an intriguing allure in his quiet demeanor that surpasses the film’s own mystery.

Then again, maybe he’s just drowsy. The audience probably will be. Reptile drones through its mystery, almost daring viewers to zone out, perhaps in hopes that we might miss a few key details and walk away thinking we’ve seen something more suggestive and complex than we have. The film has no ups or downs, just a flatline of disquiet connecting one identically inflected moment to the next. It’s the detective thriller as foreboding white noise machine.