PLOT: The night clerk (Tye Sheridan) of a quiet hotel, who secretly tapes guests interactions as a way of coping with his Asperger's, accidentally records a murder and quickly becomes a suspect.
REVIEW: THE NIGHT CLERK is a bit of a bait and switch. The trailer and the poster make this look like a noirish crime thriller, but instead it’s a low key, fairly dull character study with some red-herrings added as almost an afterthought, making it an ultimately frustrating experience despite a solid performance by lead Tye Sheridan.
Playing as Asperger’s afflicted hotel clerk, who’s so socially awkward he can’t bear to eat meals in the same room as his devoted mother (Helen Hunt) and only communicates with her via video, we’re still expected to believe he’s fine as a hotel clerk despite the job demanding he interact with strangers night after night. He copes with his condition by secretly recording guest on cameras he’s placed in all of the rooms – although we’re made to think this is ok as he’s not using them for sexual gratification. Rather, he just wants to see how they interact with each other, although given that the hotel seems to only be used for sleepy folks traveling alone or one-night-stands, perhaps these aren’t the best models for social interaction.
It’s a juicy part for Sheridan, who throws himself into the role and believably conveys his isolation and awkwardness, although it’s really for folks on the spectrum or those with friends/family afflicted to say whether or not he does a convincing job. From my uninformed perspective, he’s believable. It’s too bad though that it’s in service of what’s ultimately a very flat film.
Written and directed by Michael Cristofer, who hasn’t directed since the erotic Angelina Jolie vehicle ORIGINAL SIN back in 2001, it’s a pretty dry character study even with some noirish elements thrown in for good measure. The premise could have easily sustained a thriller, but we’re never in doubt of what happened to the mystery blonde with the violent husband (Johnathon Schaech) he saw check-in. Also puzzling is how slow John Leguizamo’s detective is to catch on to the mystery, leading to a good forty-five minutes or so when this aspect of the film fades to the background.
It’s here that the “A” story kicks in, with Sheridan falling for a beautiful guest (Ana de Armas) who seems extra friendly, but, wouldn’t you know it, has ulterior motives. While she’s shot like a film noir vixen, with her dangling cigarettes out of her lips like a Lauren Bacall, de Armas is naturally sympathetic enough to keep from becoming too obvious a femme fatale, although the twist is so easy to figure out, you gotta wonder if Cristofer ever intended anyone to be surprised in the first place.
It’s too bad the film is so dull because Sheridan and de Armas are wildly talented performers, even if they ultimately feel too good for what’s a pretty basic potboiler which I suspect is intended more as a character study but is too thinly scripted to work as such. Overall, THE NIGHT CLERK is a fairly minor film and, even if the performances are good, not really worth checking out.