Reptile
Directed by Grant Singer
★★
REPTILE_20211117_14446r.jpg
Persons Shown
Alicia Silverstone as Judy Nichols, Benicio Del Toro as Tom Nichols (Gutierrez)
Description
Reptile. (L-R) Benicio Del Toro as Tom Nichols and Alicia Silverstone as Judy Nichols in Reptile. Cr. Daniel McFadden/Netflix ©2023
Production Still Image
3600 x 2400
Credit
Daniel McFadden/Netflix
Copyright
©2023 NETFLIX
Recently, there seems to have been an uptick in gritty B-movie procedurals that are an amalgamation of wannabe David Fincher techniques and crime drama tropes. In our current society, there is an ever-present space for crime films, be it true or fiction. Our culture’s affinity for the dark and twisted denotes a seemingly permanent space in the pop culture lexicon for this sort of film (see this year’s To Catch A Killer).
With the influx of various methods for media consumption continuing to grow exponentially, the environment requires some sort of gimmick or revolution to stand out. For example, crime is a dominant force in the podcast/YouTube industry. Whether its Bailey Sarian, whose channel evocates past crimes while giving her viewers make-up tutorials or The Truth About Crime, which is hosted by the exonerated Amanda Knox, each of these popular programs have a sort of gimmick or unique trait that helps them get noticed in an overcrowded field, trying to stick out amongst straightlaced titans like Crime Junkie or Serial.
The same method can be applied to narrative series and films as well. Netflix is a pioneering giant on this front, offering thousands of hours of like-minded media, such as original favorites Orange is the New Black and House of Cards, or newer sensations like Don’t F*ck With Cats or Tiger King. Netflix has positioned itself as a pioneering platform for not only general media consumption but specifically consumption of both true and fictional crime media.
Their most recent offering, Reptile, directed by Grant Singer, his first feature after helming a barrage of music videos, seeks to find its footing in the genre as a twisty crime procedural, no doubt pulling from Fincher for inspiration.
Reptile secures its name from a metaphor dating back to biblical times yet opts to give it no value within the film’s world, save for a shot of snakeskin. The film follows an experienced detective (Benicio del Toro) who relies heavily on his wife (Alicia Silverstone) for quiet moral support as he tries to solve the murder of a local sales agent who happens to be dating (and working for) a real estate tycoon (Justin Timberlake).
The film relies heavily on ambiance and attempted suspense, throwing a bone to character development and plot necessity periodically. Reptile does boast a couple of strong performances from Del Toro and Silverstone (who is quietly making a welcomed comeback) but sacrifices depth for the sake of forward momentum.
Additionally, the writing and dialogue are bereft of meaning or creativity, opting more often than not to toe the line between straightforward 70s-inspired crime and lackluster parody. Character motivations are blurry. Despite a few genuine tense sections of the film, the rest seems to equate to an afternoon at the DMV.
Fortunately for most, Reptile will likely be lost somewhere in the annals of Netflix’s frighteningly obese roster of familiar crime content. It had potential but ultimately crumbled under the pressure of a film's need to have an interesting plot and creative expression. Reptile exists, but so do many other sleazy creatures of its kind that most people actively pretend do not.
