Image: Netflix.

There are few things in existence more powerful than a story. Far beyond entertainment, stories are how we as finite creatures pass experiences and knowledge from one generation to the next. All that we know of ourselves, of our world, and of our place in our world is determined by the stories that we tell. Stories don’t even have to be particularly good or believable, they just need to move the audience enough that they choose to overlook whatever flaws the story may have in order to find what they want to find in that story. Our lives are extended by stories. Nations are built on stories. Wars are started through stories. And when a story grows so widespread and so accepted that it becomes integral to the identity of those who believe in it, that’s when a story takes on a new form. It becomes a religion.

As the third Knives Out Mystery, which in retrospect should’ve been titled “Benoit Blanc Mystery,” Wake Up Dead Man has a lot to live up to. The original film, 2019’s Knives Out, blended a classic Agatha Christie-style mystery, sharp and witty dialog, a beautiful visual palette, and one of the most talented casts assembled this century to both redefine and revitalize the cinematic whodunnit. 2022’s The Glass Onion followed up with an equally intriguing narrative, even more pointed dialog, an absolutely stunning location, and a cast that couldn’t fit all its talent in the film, while also adding brutal social commentary so current it felt torn from headlines the week of its release. Thus if Wake Up Dead Man falls short of anything it’s solely because the previous two films set expectations too high. It’s not a bad film in any way at all. It’s just that its predecessors are that good. Essentially, the audience has such faith in the standards of A Knives Out Mystery that anything less than another perfect blend of intrigue, humor, beauty, talent, and relevance feels like a letdown.

Another ‘Knives Out’ movie means another outstanding cast.
Image: Netflix.

Opening once again with an entirely new location, Wake Up Dead Man finds Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig and his wonderfully untraceable accent) teaming up with the most likeable person in the cast, this time in the form of Father Jud Duplenticy, a former boxer who turned to the priesthood after murdering an opponent in the ring. Only this time, the rest of the cast isn’t entirely unlikeable, at least not when removed from the influence of Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin), the type of fire-and-brimstone preacher that makes the Old Testament look like Dr. Seuss. Wicks’s manipulation of those willing to listen to him, abuse of anyone not devoted to his worship, and exploitation of the faithful make a compelling case for why someone would want to make this Father into a holy ghost. Through a nice conceit of back story we’re shown how each of the characters fell under Wicks’s influence: the inherited disciple Martha Delacroix (Glenn Close), the broken doctor Ned Sharp (Jeremy Renner), devout lawyer Vera Draven (Kerry Washington) and her mysteriously aged son Cy (Daryl McCormick), miracle-seeking cellist Simone Vivane (Cailee Spaeny), and disgraced science fiction author Lee Ross (Andrew Scott). Rounding out the outstanding ensemble is groundskeeper Samson Holt (Thomas Hayden Church) and local police chief Geraldine Scott (Mila Kunis). Jeffrey Wright is also there, for a moment, in perhaps the most egregious misuse of talent in any Knives Out film. It’s through these characters that we, as an audience, come to witness the power that a story can have on those who wish to believe it.

As always, ‘Wake Up Dead Man’ is beautifully filmed.
Image: Netflix.

At this point in his career, writer-director Rian Johnson has established his mastery of cinematic composition. While not without flaws, his films – from the erasing hand sequence of Looper to the red room fight of Last Jedi to the winter and summer settings of the previous Knives Out mysteries, are all beautifully crafted. In Wake Up Dead Man, Johnson and cinematographer Steve Yedlin perfectly capture the grandeur and awe of religious architecture. The rising light behind Father Jed as he opens up about his conversion or Blanc as he reaches his favorite part of any case is obvious but nonetheless beautiful. There’s a clear sense of purpose the placement of every robe, candle, and parishioner within the church. Similarly, while the script drags in places, making the film feel overly long, the pace flows nicely between intrigue, humor, and even touches of horror. The conversations still crackle and Blanc’s musing still befuddle. It’s still a pretty great time with pretty horrible people.

Even the other characters stand in awe as Benoit Blanc weaves his narrative.
Image: Netflix.

As our ostensible point of view character, Josh O’Connor makes Father Jed into the most believable ‘Knives Out’ character yet. He acts and reacts like someone who has to actively suppress his fighter instinct, complete with the ear and nose damage from years of absorbing abuse. Similarly, Brolin feels like fervor given form, brutality through bluster, while Glenn Close presents the subtle side of danger, that of whispers and knowledge. Together our leads – Craig, O’Connor, and Brolin – form their own sort of holy trinity. Where Blanc is a skeptic, and Wicks is a charlatan, Jed makes an argument for the good side of religion, the side that invites people to be better rather than condemns them for being evil. The film is very clear in its criticism of organized religion and those who claim to speak for it, but there is also a respect for its nature. It’s only unfortunate that the story around this theme isn’t entirely believable.

As a mystery, Knives Out became such a phenomenon because, beyond the main leap of someone who vomited every time she lied, the plot and resolution had very few holes. Glass Onion wasn’t quite as transparent (so to speak), with its equally great leap of coincidence, but for the most part kept that outstanding structure intact. In Wake Up Dead Man, the foundation of the mystery series may be starting to crack. Rather than setting up one opening leap of logic, the film requires the audience to make a series of smaller hops. None are big enough to fall through, but in looking back, we can see the missing pieces and the side-steps we made in our progress. One element is in fact so obvious that it almost seems as though the film screams at the audience REMEMBER THIS! IT WILL COME BACK LATER! In this way, Wake Up Dead Man becomes similar to the religious manipulation it criticizes: it relies on engaging personalities, mesmerizing visuals, dazzling writing, and established connection for its followers to ignore logic in favor of faith. Perhaps this is by design, to put us in the place of those enthralled by Wicks, or perhaps we, like anyone who has been engaged in a story, want it to be flawless in order to justify our investment.

Rian Johnson knows that religion, and the stories it tells, is a powerful tool of control.
Image: Netflix.

In Wicks, we see how easy it is for grifters, both those in fiction and those in real life, to craft whatever stories are needed to extract what they want from those willing to listen. That the miracle they want – whether it’s to walk without pain or overturn an election – is dependent on their ability to give large monetary donations. That the quality of their character is only as strong as their willingness to prostrate themselves before one who claims divinity. That their personal troubles aren’t caused by their own flaws but by those of others, particularly of the evil, whorish women whose nature is to the suck the life out of strong, intelligent, absolutely amazing men. In Wake Up Dead Man’s most direct satire, failed right wing candidate Cy runs through an exhaustive litany of “things” he tried to fool voters into supporting him – race, gender, trans, border, AK47s, Israel, BLM, pronouns – before deciding that his “thing” would be the same as Wicks: wrapping himself in the Bible. You don’t even need a good story when people are conditioned to believe it.

Like so many false prophets before him Wicks twists every aspect of faith, every aspect of story, into a form inescapable for those inside and impenetrable for those outside. For him, a lie isn’t a lie unless he says it’s a lie. For his followers, any doubt, even an obvious one, is an attack against not only their Father but their entire faith. To oppose the leader even a little is to oppose the institution as a whole. Thus, Wicks himself becomes equal to if not greater than Jesus. All he needs is three days in a tomb. All he needs is a story.

We are all captured by stories.
Image: Netflix.

In my most self-reflective moments, when considering my purpose as an author, a reviewer, a (former) poet, and a professor, I like to think of myself as a storyteller. Most of my life, just like everyone else’s, has been devoted to stories, both those we create and those we consume. Whether we are willing to admit it or not, our lives are entirely made up of stories. From the memories which have made us who we are, to the beliefs that form our understanding of the world, to the media we allow to shape our outlook, we live through stories.

In the final minutes of Wake Up Dead Man, Benoit Blanc walks us through the story of Wicks’s murder. Yet some minor tweak, the misplacing of one piece of evidence, the doubt of one conclusion, the acceptance of one half-truth, the withholding of one piece of information, would change this story. Suddenly the murderer is innocent and an innocent is the murderer. Maybe, with enough cajoling, there was no murder. The body never existed. Truth becomes untrue. Lies are never told. Finally, what we know to have happened no longer happened. In a world where mass media uses verbal trickery to reshape the truth and artificial intelligence creates false memories, it’s important that we not sacrifice believable stories for stories we want to believe.

Few things in existence are more powerful than a story. Our stories are our lives. Stories shape our beliefs. Story is God. Because stories create our world.

Rating: 3.5 / 5