A Cure For Wellness is a story in need of further treatment.
There’s no denying Gore Verbinski’s A Cure For Wellness oozes forebodingly Gothic style. It starts conventionally enough, picking out the theme of the callous emptiness of the rat race and a mysterious Swiss ‘wellness’ clinic which offers respite and rejuvenation in its secretive mountain retreat.
When amoral and ambitious young executive Lockhart (Dane DeHaan) is sent to the clinic to bring back the errant CEO of the financial services company he works for, the stage is set for a gripping descent into the unknown. Once there, though, he learns that Mr Pembroke does not want to leave. Thwarted at every turn by the enigmatic head of the institute, Dr Heinreich Volmer (Jason Isaacs), Lockhart finds that he too will struggle to leave the clinic, especially after receiving treatment for a broken leg. Intrigued by another patient, a young girl called Hannah (Mia Goth), Lockhart finds that the secret of the institute is far darker and deeper than anyone would believe.
For the most part, A Cure For Wellness delivers a fascinating mystery backed up by a fantastically unnerving atmosphere and a lavish clinical aesthetic. Verbinski’s direction ensures that the unsettling beauty of the film’s visuals is matched by a growing sense of dread, with every shadowy corridor and pristine treatment room contributing to the mounting tension. While it retains its sense of inscrutability, it’s tremendously entertaining. Once it starts to reveal its ultimate secrets, though, it all gets a bit silly. DeHaan’s strong performance anchors the growing fear and paranoia as he is sucked further into Dr Volmer’s machinations and while everything is steeped in ambiguity, Isaacs is an effective foil. Unfortunately, Isaac’s character is both the chief architect and victim of the film’s descent into kitschy Hammer Horror melodrama meaning by the time it’s all pitchforks and shouting, the film’s potential and credibility have gone up in flames too.
Mia Goth’s portrayal of Hannah, a mysterious and otherworldly presence in the clinic, adds another layer of intrigue to the film. Her ethereal and fragile performance complements the movie’s unsettling atmosphere, and she brings an enigmatic quality to her role that keeps the audience guessing about her true nature. Supporting characters, such as Celia Imrie’s Mrs Watkins, further contribute to the film’s eerie ambiance. Imrie’s character, a long-time patient of the clinic, adds a touch of both tragic and creepy undertones to the narrative, making the institute feel like a place where time and sanity have long been abandoned.
Despite the impressive performances and the film’s striking visuals, A Cure For Wellness ultimately struggles to maintain its momentum. The film’s third act, in particular, descends into over-the-top theatrics that detract from the carefully constructed tension that preceded it. What begins as a chilling and mysterious exploration of human obsession and the pursuit of eternal youth ends up feeling like a chaotic mix of horror clichés and unintentional camp. Yet, even as the plot spirals into absurdity, the film remains visually arresting, and its commitment to its unique, twisted vision is admirable, even if it doesn’t entirely succeed in sticking the landing.
