The third installment of the Knives Out franchise, titled *Wake Up, Dead Man*, takes a bold step into darker territory, setting itself apart from its predecessors with an unsettling musical score and a gripping narrative that delves into the complexities of faith and morality. Streamed on Netflix, this film unravels a mystery steeped in religious themes, showcasing not only the cinematic artistry of its director, Rian Johnson, but also the collaborative genius of his long-time team.
From the very first note of the score, composer Nathan Johnson—a cousin of Rian Johnson—establishes a tone that oscillates between beauty and disquiet. As he describes, the initial sound of “violins scraping their strings across the bows” evokes a sensation akin to “nails on a chalkboard,” which gradually resolves into a singular, pure tone. This captures the essence of the film, illustrating a struggle between light and darkness, a theme that resonates throughout the narrative.
Cinematographer Steve Yedlin, also a frequent collaborator of Rian Johnson, contributes to this atmosphere with a visual aesthetic that emphasizes “inky blacks” and moody contrasts. The production design by Rick Heinrichs further enhances this tone, with the film embodying a “darker and more serious” exploration of themes that are particularly relevant in today’s sociopolitical climate.
At the center of this mystery is Detective Benoit Blanc, portrayed by Daniel Craig, who finds himself embroiled in a murder investigation surrounding Monsignor Wicks (Josh Brolin), a hot-headed priest killed in a small New England town. The narrative’s conflict is heightened by the presence of Rev. Jud (Josh O’Connor), the new and kind-hearted priest, setting the stage for an exploration of varying perspectives on religion through the lens of a who-dunnit.
The film’s opening scene, where Jud narrates the fiery sermon delivered by Monsignor Wicks, serves as a compelling introduction. The metaphor of the ocean, with the ship as a representation of humanity and the religious leader as its captain, threads through the film’s imagery. This is reinforced by the unique design of Wicks’s pulpit, reminiscent of a ship’s bow, crafted specifically to echo religious iconography and the tumultuous journey of faith.
As the story unfolds, the tension escalates with the shocking revelation of Wicks’s murder. The cinematography during the murder scene favors drama over realism, employing dramatic lighting to enhance the emotional stakes. Yedlin’s innovative approach to lighting—varying the appearance of the light bulb throughout the scene—creates an intense atmosphere, amplifying the viewer’s engagement with the unfolding drama.
One of the film’s standout sequences occurs when Jud witnesses what appears to be a resurrection. The moment is rendered visually striking through a carefully designed tomb door that shatters dramatically, a feat accomplished through meticulous planning by Heinrichs’s team. The sound design intensifies the scene, utilizing a disconcerting broken harmonium motif that adds to the sense of horror and wonder.
The film’s climactic moments are underscored by Nathan Johnson’s haunting score, which employs techniques such as *col legno*—a method where string instruments are played with the wood of the bow. This technique, combined with the emotional weight of the narrative, culminates in a soundscape that is as compelling as it is terrifying.
As the narrative reaches its denouement inside the Church of Our Lady of Perpetual Fortitude, the interplay of light and darkness continues to serve as a metaphor for the characters’ inner struggles. The production design creates a larger-than-life interior where the sunlight dictates the emotional tone of the scenes. This dynamic use of lighting is a testament to the collaborative effort behind the film, allowing for improvisation while maintaining a cohesive vision.
Blanc’s ultimate revelation, marked by a shift in the score to a hopeful, beautiful melody, encapsulates the film’s exploration of redemption and the conflict between reason and faith. This pivotal moment, enhanced by a technique called circular bowing, allows for a brief yet profound glimpse of beauty amidst the darkness, showcasing the power of contrast in both the narrative and the score.
In *Wake Up, Dead Man*, Rian Johnson and his team deliver not only a captivating murder mystery but also a thoughtful commentary on faith, morality, and the human experience. The film’s artistic achievements, from its chilling score to its evocative cinematography, create a rich tapestry that invites viewers to ponder the deeper questions of existence, making it a worthy continuation of the Knives Out legacy.
Reviewed by: News Desk
Edited with AI assistance + Human research
