Serenity’s locked-in protagonist is McConaughey’s Baker Dill, who’s so obsessed with catching a humongous tuna (which he alternately calls “the Beast” and “Justice”) that all the folks on his small fishing island avidly follow his day-to-day attempts. Reaching out in despair into the darkness, these men become real in ways they’d never been before. As he demonstrated in his one-man, one-set, one-camera-angle drama Locke, he’s drawn to men trapped (or locked) inside their own heads, with settings serving as metaphors for human isolation. I’m mocking Serenity, but I feel a great deal of affection for it, because its writer and director, Steven Knight, set himself a very weird task and held firm. I knew why because I had been ceiling-watching.
There are parts in Serenity when something vaguely supernatural happens and the tinkly triangles and shimmery harps came through nicely. The ceiling of the recently redesigned screening room where I saw Serenity was pocked with speakers, which, with the help of more on the side, made for killer sound. Even the new ones can hold your attention. Ceilings of theaters can be interesting, especially old ones with intricate patterns. It has good actors - in this case, Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Diane Lane, and Djimon Hounsou - and it’s not reliably terrible (sometimes it’s okay), but you get embarrassed for the people involved and need short breaks, so you lean your head back and gaze at the ceiling. The fishing noir Serenity is a fine example of a Ceiling-Watch movie.
I would encourage everyone to read no one but me as some of the other reviews have given everything - and I mean fucking everything - away. Note to Readers: This review contains no spoilers, to the point that it might seem unduly vague.
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