Tesla is the second time this year I've seen an ostensible biopic explicitly break the rules of and re-contextualize the form of the biopic. Michael Almereyda's film on the career of Nikola Tesla is adapted from a script he wrote over twenty years ago for Jerzy Skolimowski that never came to fruition; and in his return to it, he takes an unusually avant-garde approach to the subject of addressing the life of this crucial but mysterious figure in the history of electrical engineering and modern technology. Within the film, there is the history and a thesis on Tesla himself, though it is presented through relentlessly curious narrative, structural, and visual choices. It is perhaps less successful than Josephine Decker's Shirley in this regard, and may not wholly work for all its' ambition, but it is terrifically fascinating nonetheless.
Almereyda's cited influences on the film include Derek Jarman, Henry James, and Drunk History of all things. I haven't read much James admittedly and I didn't watch Drunk History (though I can certainly spot where the movie is pulling from its' loose reality fabric). However, I can see Jarman all over this film. Most of it is shot indoors by a light source often of the early electrical variety that Tesla and Thomas Edison innovated, and with operative framing reminiscent of Caravaggio or Jarman's Tempest. Abstract shots set in exterior environments will usually compose Tesla against a matte painting with appropriate colour grading to convey his movement in the outside world. And perhaps most stylistically captivating of all, Almereyda has a compatible interest in anachronism pertaining to the speculative aspects of the story and its' framing device. On occasion, the film is interrupted by its narrator Anne Morgan (a sharp and stunning Eve Hewson), daughter of industrialist J.P. and a love interest of Tesla's, who illustrates points with the aid of google and powerpoint -as though she were a student giving a presentation or a guide in a museum. She is our historian, directly addressing us, and carefully leading us through the film and the relevant chapters of Tesla's life, dropping in hypotheticals or extrapolations now and again. And there's something quaint in the film acknowledging its own artificiality in this way, like a life story written for the stage while still utilizing precise cinematic language in its' expression.
This is where the film is utterly astounding. In the same way that Rocketman employed magical realism to heighten the emotionality of its' musical sequences, Tesla draws remarkable parallels to the world that has grown out of his ingenuity. There's a distinct modernism to how the film illustrates the trajectory of Tesla's career, as our world intrudes on his own, often for important thematic punctuation. Sometimes it takes the form of Edison scrolling through a smartphone in the background of a scene, other times it's an awesome interlude of Tesla himself singing a British New Wave classic that epitomizes his state of mind. With the exception of his initial magnifying transmitter test in Colorado, many of the momentous episodes from his life are left off-screen in ellipses.
That creative choice however, was probably not the right one. Part of the appeal in watching a movie about Tesla is seeing the discoveries and inventions themselves rather than merely the business of acquiring patents or talking about the scientific theory and physics of it all. There's that whole belief he could communicate with Mars that formed the backbone of a pretty good Doctor Who episode earlier this year, here only mentioned for the modest damage it was doing to his reputation and his chances at obtaining future financing. We don’t ultimately get to know much about Tesla’s process, and those not already aware of who he was and what he did might have difficulty ascertaining how he is so significant. One of the few battlegrounds in the so-called “current wars” we do see in some detail is the innovation of electrical current as a form of execution and the ethical ramifications of that. Edison is against capital punishment, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to patent electrocution for himself -despite Tesla’s alternating currents being better suited for this already gruesome use of the new technology.
Almereyda reunites with the stars of his 2000 Hamlet for this movie, with Ethan Hawke in the title role and Kyle MacLachlan as Edison. MacLachlan definitely fits the old world capitalist, whom he infuses with suitable pettiness and arrogance, but a degree of genuine scientific brilliance as well. In light of Tesla’s contemporary popularity, the image of Edison can sometimes morph into that of a nineteenth century Elon Musk, merely taking the credit for the geniuses he exploits (the irony of Musk and his Tesla is not lost in that analogy) -but this film doesn’t do that. Hawke of course is excellent, playing Tesla with reservation but infinite depth that is belied in a handful of moments allowed to escape his customary silence and introverted personality. He never seems to be living only in the moment, but constantly considering the future, and the future of his work -one of the only things he holds in exceptionally high regard and takes absolute pride in. It’s a solemn performance, a sad one even.
There’s a reverence for Tesla in this movie that recollects that of Van Gogh in Loving Vincent -though of course Tesla is very much alive through the story it is telling. And yet I can’t quite bring myself to endorse the film wholeheartedly. Perhaps because a lot of its’ artistic choices are more interesting than they are enthralling. As visually and stylistically exceptional as the movie is, there’s not much character to it -it does play better as a history lesson, its’ interiors and low budget especially giving it the feel at times of a Heritage Canada Moment. Or maybe the dim spaces and near-absence of an outside world reflect too closely the claustrophobia of our pandemic reality. But the uniqueness of its designs and many of its executions is enough for me to recommend Tesla. For sure it is a dose of freshness in the environment of increasing mundanity that is the biopic genre. And perhaps like with Tesla himself, appreciation will grow with time. I cannot say this will be the only time I watch it.
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