Rating: 5 out of 10.

Does anyone else know?

Elsa (Sonya Walger) has ALS. Diagnosed six months ago, her symptoms have reached the point of affecting her job—a job that’s intentionally shrouded in secrecy at the start of John Rosman’s New Life. We glean details (sparse apartment, handgun, and Tony Amendola’s mysterious handler Raymond visiting with a new assignment), though, and conclude she’s either a CIA operative or assassin despite it not really mattering. It should matter. The fact it doesn’t is the main reason I could never let the story wash over me and the core of why it fails to live up to its potential.

Because although the movie is very much Elsa’s story, she isn’t the “lead.” She’s neither the first person we meet nor the presumed protagonist. We are conversely conditioned to hope she fails. So, suddenly pushing her into the “hero” role halfway through ultimately destroyed what was left of my good will. Not because she shouldn’t be the hero or that her trajectory doesn’t illustrate the overall message Rosman is trying to convey, but because he undercuts the effectiveness and necessity of both to facilitate an empty twist.

We meet Jessica (Hayley Erin) first instead. Distraught, covered in blood, and running for her life towards home. She washes up, finds a change of clothes, and discovers the engagement ring her boyfriend never gave her before realizing two men with guns have entered the house. Escaping through a window she finds herself stowing away in the backs of strangers’ cars, eventually meeting a kindly older couple willing to help.

The assumption we make (as well as anyone who encounters her and her black eye) is that Jessica is on the run from violence. That she cannot divulge too many details because trusting the wrong person could be the difference between life and death. Add Elsa’s activation on her crosscut parallel pursuit and we presume it’s true. Jessica either did something or saw something that a deep-pocketed entity can’t let become public knowledge. So, she becomes our focus. She becomes the character we pull for regardless of Elsa’s own tragic backstory. Flipping the script doesn’t therefore excite us. It frustrates.

I don’t want to give too much away, so I’ll try to keep plot specifics to a minimum beyond admitting Jessica is a MacGuffin. It doesn’t matter that we spend two-thirds of the runtime following her isolated path or that the film asks us to sympathize with her plight. Her true purpose is to set Elsa’s wheels in motion. How can you not then wonder what might have been if Rosman simply let that be the case?

What if he wrote this script as Elsa’s story wherein Jessica is merely her current case instead of pretending as though her existence is on the same level of importance first? I don’t think it fundamentally changes a thing when looking back with hindsight. Maybe the first half isn’t as mysterious as it is now, but the second half wouldn’t be nearly as manipulative either. Because we would know where we stand with the characters. We would give Elsa our weight and Jessica our pity. The latter can still have pathos. Her progress can still be about not taking life for granted. It would simply transparently do so for the benefit of the former.

Because we also don’t know what movie we’re in due to the subterfuge. Not truly. New Life’s start and finish are on completely different wavelengths. Yes, it’s cool and superficially effective, but it proves to be for naught the second that shift undermines the overall package. It’s too bad too since the much more horror-infused second half is memorable in its thrills and special effects. It’s also a shame because Walger delivers a fantastic performance that deserves more time and intent to let its third act revelations breathe and earn its emotional gravitas—gravitas the filmmaking thinks it has already.

I get the desire to make things more complex and twisty, but the script needs to be airtight for such devices to truly excel. It can’t make you feel as though it led you on only to provide a “gotcha” that renders more of what we’ve seen inconsequential than it augments. There’s an intriguing concept here as far as using the idea that ALS is like being a prisoner in one’s own body. That’s a thought that justifiably conjures fear, especially for those who don’t need to accept the reality themselves. I just think the finished product uses it as a gimmick rather than a lesson.


Sonya Walger in NEW LIFE; courtesy of Fantasia.

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