On the Line Review: Mel Gibson Can’t Save This Muddled Meta-Thriller

“On the Line” is the latest psychological thriller from French writer-director Romuald Boulanger. It centers on Elvis Cooney (Mel Gibson), a brash and controversial radio host whose on-air antics have made him a polarizing figure. One night, Elvis receives a chilling call from a vengeful listener named Gary, who claims to have taken Elvis’ wife and daughter hostage. Thus begins a tense game of cat-and-mouse within the confines of the radio station.

The film has elicited polarized reactions from critics. Some praised its gripping setup and Gibson’s committed lead performance. Others decried its increasingly ludicrous plot twists, particularly the controversial ending that left many feeling betrayed. Amidst this divided discourse, one thing is evident – “On the Line” demands to be dissected and analyzed.

This review will examine the movie’s merits and flaws through a multifaceted lens. From its technical craft to its thematic heft, no aspect will go unscrutinized. The bone of contention – that divisive conclusion – will receive particular focus in assessing whether it enriches or undermines the narrative. An objective yet discerning eye will determine if “On the Line” is a tautly executed thriller deserving of attention or a misguided misfire straying too far into contrivance.

Nighttime Radio Nightmare

Elvis Cooney is a controversial late-night radio host known for his brash, no-holds-barred persona. On this particular evening, he arrives at the studio alongside his producer Mary and new intern Dylan, ready for another stint of riling up listeners. However, the night takes an ominous turn when a disturbed caller named Gary phones in.

Gary claims to have entered Elvis’ home, murdered his family’s dogs, and taken his wife and young daughter hostage. His deranged demands? Elvis must keep him on the line and follow his twisted instructions, or his loved ones will be killed. Trapped inside the station, Elvis has no choice but to engage with Gary’s deadly game.

At first, Gary’s motivations seem rooted in vengeful outrage over Elvis’ history of on-air cruelty towards others. But as the hours drag on, the scenario grows increasingly bizarre. Gary issues directives sending Elvis and Dylan on a treacherous scavenger hunt throughout the building’s maze-like hallways and rooms. Rigged explosives, far-fetched revelations, and a mounting body count raise the stakes to delirious heights.

What began as a tense hostage scenario mutates into an incomprehensible labyrinth of twists and turns. Elvis is forced to confront not just a dangerous adversary, but also his own checkered past and the consequences of his calloused actions. The night will climax in a startling denouement that radically recontextualizes everything that preceded it, for better or worse.

Dissecting the Craft

Romuald Boulanger’s direction in “On the Line” is a tale of two halves. The opening act bristles with tension, deftly utilizing the claustrophobic confines of the radio studio to heighten the stakes. Boulanger employs judicious camera movements and tight framing to convey the pressure steadily mounting on Elvis. However, as the plot progresses and events spill beyond the station’s walls, the directorial grip loosens. Sequences meant to ratchet up the thrills instead devolve into convoluted contrivances, undermining the initially taut atmosphere.

Cinematographically, the film is competent if unspectacular. Boulanger and cinematographer Thomas L. Callaway effectively juxtapose the bright, spacious studio with the dimly-lit, maze-like corridors to convey the escalating dread. Yet, their visual language grows increasingly pedestrian during the unraveling final act, failing to inject artistry into the outlandish plot mechanics.

Amidst the tonal shifts, Mel Gibson’s magnetic presence remains a constant. As Elvis Cooney, he fully inhabits the radio host’s abrasive, quick-witted persona without ever descending into caricature. Gibson’s grizzled charisma seamlessly pivots from cocky arrogance to visceral desperation as the night’s events intensify. While the material doesn’t always serve him, the veteran actor’s committed performance is a masterclass in elevating even the most contrived scenarios through sheer force of skill.

The supporting cast, unfortunately, struggles to make a lasting impact. William Moseley as the hapless Dylan and Alia Seror-O’Neill as Elvis’ producer Mary are mere plot facilitators devoid of dimensionality. Only Kevin Dillon as Elvis’ on-air rival Justin manages to carve out a modicum of comedic relief amidst the escalating mania.

Boulanger’s screenplay begins promisingly, crafting an intriguing scenario that plays on primal fears surrounding random callers and the fragility of perceived safety. However, as the night progresses, the story’s internal logic frays with each increasingly preposterous development. What could have been a cerebral game of psychological warfare devolves into a tedious exercise of ludicrously overwritten plot tumors.

The dialogue is similarly hit-or-miss. Elvis’ cantankerous wit generates occasional sparks, but much of the supporting characters’ banter is mired in clunky exposition and groan-worthy one-liners. Too often, the screenplay prioritizes contrivance over nuance and authenticity in its desperation to maintain narrative momentum at all costs.

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Muddled Morality Tale

On the surface, “On the Line” purports to be a morality play about the far-reaching consequences of cruelty and unbridled speech. Elvis Cooney is portrayed as an unrepentant shock jock who has left a trail of human wreckage in his wake through years of scathing insults and psychological torment of easy targets. The unhinged vendetta of Gary, the mysterious caller, is framed as a form of twisted justice – punishment for Elvis’s myriad trespasses.

However, the film fumbles this premise through its progressively cartoonish escalations. As each twist and turn stretches credulity further, the intended exploration of how words can catalyze violence loses its nuance and introspective heft. What could have been a sobering reminder of the human impact of public figures’ rhetoric instead drowns in its own absurdities.

The central narrative’s lack of subtlety is symptomatic of a larger lack of intellectual depth. While there are nods to complex themes like the cyclical nature of hurt begetting hurt, and the ethics of combating hate with further hate, the screenplay rarely extends beyond surface-level proclamations. Meaningful insights are sacrificed at the altar of lurid plot contrivances.

Ultimately, “On the Line” adopts the very tone of gleeful sadism and exploitation that it ostensibly seeks to condemn. Any profound discourse on morality, responsibility, and the weight of one’s actions is eclipsed by a fixation on graphic thrills and cheap shocks. The film’s ethical compass goes haywire long before its polarizing finale upends any profound intentions entirely.

Twist Too Far

No aspect of “On the Line” has sparked more polarized reactions than its bafflingly audacious conclusion. After a night of escalating absurdity, the film pulls the rug out from under the audience with a series of twists that recontextualize every preceding event. The pivotal revelation? Gary, the menacing caller tormenting Elvis, is merely an element of an elaborately staged scenario – a victim of Elvis’ cruelty who has concocted an extreme form of payback.

On one side are those who admire writer-director Romuald Boulanger’s brazen unwillingness to play by conventional rules. This jarring rug-pull, they argue, is a sly meta-commentary on the very nature of contrived Hollywood thrillers and their increasingly ludicrous lengths to dazzle jaded audiences. By leaning into the outlandish and illogical aspects gathering throughout the runtime, the climax achieves a form of thematic cohesion.

However, the opposing view – that this conclusion represents a profound betrayal of the audience’s trust – is equally vehement. For many, the twists pose an insurmountable logical hurdle that unravels any remaining goodwill. How could the elaborate set pieces, from the rigged explosives to Gary’s omniscient surveillance, possibly be concocted by a lone vengeful victim? The plausibility fractures prove too egregious to overlook through any meta-lense.

Caught in the crossfire of this divide is the film’s very identity. If one chooses to view the ending as a cheeky critique of genre tropes, then the film must be read as a supremely executed dissection of Hollywood excess. Those who cannot abide the ending’s transgressions, however, will undoubtedly view the experience as a misguided plummet into self-indulgent absurdism masquerading as profundity.

Ultimately, Boulanger’s gambit is a double-edged sword that both elevates and undermines his creation. On one side lies a daring deconstruction of cinematic formulas; on the other, a hollow, self-congratulatory prank on the very viewers it aims to provoke. In attempting to have it both ways tonally, “On the Line” finds itself lost in a muddled purgatory – too conventional to be transgressive, too unhinged to be taken seriously as a thriller. A more dismissive viewer might deem it simply a shaggy joke extended well past its punchline.

Final thoughts: Radio Silence

In aspiring to be a daring meta-commentary on the conventions of the thriller genre, “On the Line” gets tangled in its own self-indulgent ambitions. What begins as a promisingly taut game of psychological cat-and-mouse steadily devolves into a muddled mess of illogical plot contortions and tonal dissonance.

The film’s strengths lie in its atmospheric direction during the claustrophobic opening act and Mel Gibson’s committed lead performance. His grizzled charisma papers over many of the screenplay’s nagging implausibilities in the moment. However, even Gibson cannot salvage the progressively ludicrous twists that undermine the narrative’s integrity.

Romuald Boulanger’s insistence on deconstructing genre tropes through a meta-narrative rug-pull in the finale may impress a small subset of viewers. But for most, the conclusion will register as a profound betrayal of the story’s initial stakes rather than an enriching subversive vision.

Ultimately, “On the Line” emerges as a misguided experiment – too unhinged to work as a straightforward thriller yet lacking the nuance and cohesion to justify its delirious narrative U-turns as insightful satire. Daring ambition alone does not excuse a total abandonment of logic and audience trust. For all but the most indulgent thrill-seekers, this movie’s signal is better left unheeded.

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