Parents' Guide to Dual

A downbeat sci-fi tale mixed with dark, dry comedy, this funny, genuinely surprising, and surprisingly touching gem works beautifully thanks to its confident palette and committed performances. The third feature by writer-director Riley Stearns, Dual firmly establishes him as a filmmaker with a specific visual and tonal style, as well as one who's unafraid to explore tough themes of humanity. (It's hard not to recall his The Art of Self-Defense.) The movie opens with a swash of shocking violence (featuring Theo James) to set the tone and to establish the title's nifty double meaning, and then it introduces Gillan's Sarah in a brilliant sequence that checks off everything we need to know about her. It's only then that we might realize that this stuff is slyly funny; the humor creeps up on us.

Gillan's perfectly modulated performance provides most of the laughs. She's deadpan, to be sure, but she allows some emotion at the edge of her performance. Her line deliveries are sprinkled with uncertainty and self-doubt, and the mix makes her both hilarious and lovable. Dual gets even better when Gillan gets to act with herself -- and better still when Paul comes into the picture. His delivery is intense but gentle, and he complements her beautifully, especially in a scene where he asks her for a special favor. After a smattering of brutal moments mixed with sumptuous ones, the movie eventually takes a somewhat pessimistic turn -- it doesn't let viewers off easily -- but it also feels like a shared, existential experience. In this world, we're all laughing and crying together.