Seconds (1966)

I didn't feel like filling up my entire month's worth of Netflix deliveries with outright horrors. This one gets classified as a sci-fi thriller, so I figured it was still appropriate for the lead-up to Halloween.

Fifty-something Arthur Hamilton (formerly blacklisted John Randolph) receives messages from a friend who was reported dead, pointing him to the reason for that misinformation: A special company has given him a new identity, complete with a more youthful new look. Arthur is unhappy enough that he eventually accepts the invitation to get the same sort of treatment, becoming "Antiochus Wilson" (Rock Hudson). But it's not an easy transition, and even afterward, a second chance may not be all it's cracked up to be....

In truth, the story's not particularly big on sci-fi premises or thrills. Extreme cosmetic surgery was probably doable at the time, tho rare enough that brief footage of an actual nose job drove many early viewers out of the theater. The creepiness comes mainly in the first act (with overwrought music) and the horrific finale.

It's more of a brooding existential treatise, noting that a privileged man living the American dream can be empty inside, because it wasn't his personal dream, and yet he's bound to take a lot of that emptiness with him into a customized alleged fresh start. To me, it feels more like '80s David Lynch than '60s John Frankenheimer. The latter director clearly took inspiration from some European auteurs this time, tho Cannes Film Festival critics hated it.

The best thing about this sleeper cult hit is the Oscar-nominated cinematography by James Wong Howe. For example, after a surrealist opening credit sequence, the camera peers over the shoulder of a walking Arthur, conveying a sense of oppression and potential paranoia. A bedroom scene looks off-kilter to drive home that he's not into his wife (Frances Reid) anymore. And a nude hippie festival that wouldn't look out of place in The Wicker Man is shot as wildly as it merits.

The second best thing is Hudson, who had never had a major serious role before. (The studio found him more marketable than Kirk Douglas or Laurence Olivier.) He could easily have taken the comically hammy route, especially in his party scene, where he was drunk for real. Instead, he keeps everything appropriate.

In theory, anyway. I didn't always understand Arthur's reactions—or other characters', for that matter—not least at the party. When the film ended, I was scratching my head. Even now, having watched the DVD documentary shorts, I only partly understand their rationales.

Perhaps the biggest stumbling block for me was the nature of the company. I've seen other movies in which secretive (or at least little-known) companies offer unique opportunities likely to change one's life. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Game, and Death Becomes Her all popped into my head as I watched. None of those offers would tempt me personally, since I'd have my suspicions of why I hadn't heard of them before. But the company herein is so shady that we never learn its name. Arthur must realize that it's breaking multiple laws before he signs on—not that he's given much of a choice in the matter once he pays a visit.

At the same time, the employees act so darn casual about it, as if there were nothing controversial going on and they wouldn't mind if the authorities caught wind of their activities. Nor do they seem to doubt their course of action in spite of a low customer satisfaction rate. The founder (Jeff Corey), who evidently hasn't bothered with a makeover himself, says that by the time he started to have, y'know, second thoughts, the company was too big to fail. I don't buy that, especially given what they do.

It occurs to me that certain limitations by the company also create a problem for the philosophical equation. Arthur doesn't like his new life in part because he's always surrounded by company reps and/or fellow "reborns." That's no way to forget whom you've been, and it means that his new love interest (Salome Jens) is a sham. Furthermore, while the company tries to cater to his innermost desire, it selects his new name for him even before he shows up. (Did you think he'd want to be an Antiochus?) I guess that to some extent, this is just their way of being both cautious and efficient in getting him set up. But I have to wonder whether Arthur would have been considerably happier with more freedom, which would weaken one of the intended morals.

In the end, Seconds does its job of engaging your brain, whether or not your thinking goes the way the makers wanted. It's not quite as daunting as it once was, but bleakness is timeless in effect.