They'll sleep when they're dead

There's a sequence about half way through "Insomnia", where rumpled L.A. cop Will Dormer chases a man he believes to be the murderer he's come to Alaska to find, across a log drive. It's a thrilling moment, especially when Dormer trips into the water and finds himself trapped beneath the logs. By about halfway through the scene, I realized a startling thing: I was watching 62-year old Al Pacino and 50-year old Robin Williams acting out a footrace. And it was enthralling. In hindsight, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, for "Insomnia" lives to confound its audience's expectations.

That's a strange statement to make considering it's a remake. But when the original happens to be a 5-year old Norwegian film, one that I've beaten my brains out trying to find in local video stores for years, it makes much more sense. And when you realize that Christopher Nolan, the auteur-mastermind behind 2000's "Memento", you come to expect the unexpected.

Nolan tackles a much more conventional thriller this time out. "Conventional" being a relative terms, for "Insomnia" is anything but. Sure, all the typical elements are there, but it's less focused on bringing those elements together, or on working through the machinations of the plot. Rather, it spends its time thoroughly dissecting the psychologies of its characters.

In the end, "Insomnia" is really about one thing: the slow disintegration of one good cop. Will Dormer (= dormir = to sleep; yeah, yeah, we get it) is Serpico 20 years down the line: a legend in his own mind and the mind of others. But his reputation has been severely damaged even before he gets to Nightmute, the small Alaskan town known as the "Halibut fishing capital of the world". And the events of his first day in Alaska quicken the spin of his downward spiral. This all serves to set up the most destructive force in his life: his insomnia (a motif that would have been terribly important even if they hadn't named the film after it).

Pacino and Nolan, in tandem, do a wonderful job of relaying the experience of insomnia to the audience. Nolan uses self-consciously tricky camera work, exhibiting hallucinations and lack of focus. Pacino uses an intense dreariness -- look at his eyes, even more hangdog than usual -- a slurring of speech, and a hunched over gait. The startling thing is that neither allows Dormer to make excuses for his debilitating condition. In fact, they allow Dormer to, in moments, flash some of his brilliance for the audience and, more importantly, his new Alaskan cop colleagues, to see. The tragedy is that he just can't maintain it.

Pacino, who I find overbearing in his louder work, mines the same gold that yielded him Michael Corleone and the aging mobster in "Donnie Brasco". He's quiet, introspective, but not averse to lashing out when the time is right. It's an astounding performance that reminds you yet again why Pacino can be, when reined in, one of the most powerful and subtle actors ever captured on film.

Robin Williams' hyper-kinetic screen persona has worn thin in recent years. But like Pacino, when he controls his energy he is astounding. His work here is a prime example of that. He plays Walter Finch, a wannabe-cop turned pulp crime novelist-cum-pocket philosopher, who is only a worthy adversary because Dormer is so out of it. In any other circumstance, he'd be Dormer's breakfast, digested before lunch. Williams is mostly controlled and cool throughout. But he also allows all of Finch's insecurities to shine through. He's not a perfect super-villain, just a man caught in an extreme situation, frantically using the tools he has to get out of it. It is easily Williams' best work, trumping even his Oscar-winning turn in "Good Will Hunting".

Hillary Swank, the cast's third Oscar-winner, starts out slow as Ellie Burr, a local cop. Her work felt manner and awkward, until you realize later on that she was supposed to be mannered and awkward. She is putting on a good show for Dormer, a cop she idolizes. Later on, however, Ellie becomes integral to the suspense: the audience, who know what's going on, become tense waiting for to get up to speed, unsure if she ever will and even if they want her to.

Besides his work with Pacino's psychology, Nolan ably uses all the elements on his director's palette to heighten and expand the suspense. Quick, subliminal cuts jarringly remind us of important points in the action. Extreme close-ups allude to secrets yet to be revealed. And haunting imagery (the plane ride that opens the film, over an endless sea of jagged ice, comes to mind) set a solid tone. His most accomplished sequence is shot through a dense fog. Dormer is sure that there's a killer out there somewhere, brandishing a weapon, but he can't see him. It's a terrific suspenseful moment. All this dispels the notion that Nolan was a one-hit wonder with "Memento". Clearly he's a talent we can expect a lot more from.

Some have claimed that "Insomnia" ends in a typical suspense movie fashion. I couldn't disagree more. I enjoyed these frantic scenes thoroughly, for they not only tidied up the plot, but were tempered by some bleak dark humour, a rhetorical device that periodically pops up, when needed, throughout the film. So from top to bottom "Insomnia" is a solid piece of filmmaking, entertaining throughout, and psychologically thought provoking. What more can one ask for?