TESLA. More like a sketch filled with ideas

Nikola Tesla is no stranger to American cinema. He appeared briefly in Nolan’s The Prestige, where he was portrayed by another (musical) genius – David Bowie. Three years ago, Nicholas Hoult took on the role – this time in a much larger part crafted for The Current War. Michael Almereyda, therefore, did not venture into completely uncharted waters, though it must be said that the task he set for himself was arguably the most ambitious yet.

He decided to adapt Tesla’s biography in an accessible yet highly personal way – to create a film that is unconventional and breaks free from the formulas that usually govern this type of cinema. In the role of the brilliant inventor, Almereyda cast his longtime collaborator and friend – the well-known and well-liked Ethan Hawke. The two met in 1995 at the Sundance Festival (Almereyda was filming a documentary about the great American festival at the time), and they began working on their first film together just three years later. Hawke’s interpretation of Tesla is that of a gloomy, sullen genius. He speaks very rarely, and when he does, it’s usually in monosyllables and quiet, barely comprehensible murmurs.

Hawke and Almereyda’s vision thus stands in stark contrast to the portrayal of Tesla in The Prestige, where Bowie brought him to life as a charismatic and dynamic figure. In opposition to the taciturn inventor, the director sets up the exceptionally talkative Anna Morgan (Eve Hewson) – a fourth-wall-breaking narrator who guides the viewer throughout the film. She is both a diegetic character, appearing in the story as one of the protagonists, and a meta-narrative device – a screenwriting trick Almereyda uses to add additional layers to his work.

At several points, she appears in a lecture-like role – sitting at a desk with a MacBook, explaining to us that typing “Tesla” into Google will yield half as many results as typing in “Edison.” Almereyda attempts to follow a model popularized in recent years by the films of Adam McKay. To wrap a serious, fundamentally tragic biography in an attractive but intellectually challenging form. He gives 20th-century characters modern gadgets (a technique once used to great effect by Derek Jarman), undermines on-screen events through off-screen narration, and then presents them again in revised form. However, the Marjorie Prime director doesn’t go all the way like the Big Short and Vice creator.

He stops halfway – intriguing, playful directorial choices (like roller-skating through a stylish parlor or Tesla expressing his deeply hidden emotions by singing Everybody Wants to Rule the World against a neon backdrop) coexist with dull, superficial scenes that feel like they were pulled straight from a run-of-the-mill American biopic. The director was clearly missing something – either inventiveness or courage. The end product feels more like a sketch filled with ideas for a film rather than a fully realized work crafted from a solid plan. Without a doubt, the acting in Tesla is its most noteworthy element. Ethan Hawke may not be as charming and natural as in Richard Linklater’s films, but he is at least convincingly shy in his portrayal of the genius inventor – especially in scenes where he has to grovel before wealthy investor J.P. Morgan, begging for more funding for his expensive experiments. At those moments, true humiliation is etched on his face – we see how much suffering this begging cost the great inventor. Hawke is matched by Kyle MacLachlan, who plays Tesla’s formidable rival – Thomas Edison.

Interestingly, the two actors had already met once in an Almereyda film – twenty years ago, they faced off in a modern adaptation of Hamlet (Hawke as the title character, MacLachlan as the villainous Claudius). The situation in Tesla feels broadly similar. The wealthy, influential Edison faces off against the modest, introverted Tesla, who once worked at the corporation of the American inventor-businessman (and thus was part of his “kingdom”). If the entire film had maintained the level of its best scenes, it would undoubtedly have been a successful and compelling biography in many respects.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Instead, we are left with an unremarkable work, stuck between a bold artistic vision and a school-friendly execution aimed at a broader audience. Tesla will fully satisfy no one – neither the discerning festival-goer nor the casual moviegoer looking for a gripping story. The former will see Almereyda’s project as unfulfilled; the latter – as pretentious. The director wanted to have his cake and eat it too. As a result, everyone leaves his film hungry.