A Filmic Oddity: Serenity

      Matthew Shepherd on the 2019 film Serenity...

      There is a particular kind of Hollywood film that goes against all logic. It’s not about a project destined to fail — a low-budget movie with no recognizable names that gets quietly shelved and forgotten — but rather a film that emerges with every possible advantage yet still manages to disappear without a trace. Serenity, Steven Knight’s 2019 neo-noir, may be the most extreme recent example of this phenomenon. Featuring two Oscar-winning stars, a celebrated director at the height of his career, and a supporting cast filled with serious talent, it somehow remains largely unknown, with even fewer people having actually seen it. Those who have seen it often find themselves bewildered by its content.

      At first glance, the premise seems clear enough. Matthew McConaughey portrays Baker Dill, a fishing boat captain enjoying a serene, sunlit life on the fictional Plymouth Island. His tranquil existence is upended when his ex-wife Karen, played by Anne Hathaway, unexpectedly proposes that he murder her wealthy, abusive new husband Frank (Jason Clarke) by pushing him off a boat during a fishing trip, in exchange for ten million dollars. This setup resembles a classic noir story, featuring a femme fatale, a morally conflicted protagonist, money, and violence, all set against a stunning backdrop.

      What makes the obscurity of Serenity particularly striking is the caliber of individuals involved. This marked McConaughey and Hathaway’s first and only collaboration since Interstellar, Christopher Nolan’s 2014 sci-fi hit that grossed nearly $700 million globally. Their reunion should have been a cinematic highlight. Meanwhile, Knight was at the pinnacle of his success — with Peaky Blinders having elevated him to a respected status in television, and his 2013 film Locke, set mostly in a car with Tom Hardy, showcasing his ability to create significant cinematic work on a limited budget. The cast also included Diane Lane, Jason Clarke, Djimon Hounsou, and Jeremy Strong — all well-known actors, with Strong on the verge of rising to fame during the Succession era, which would see him become one of his generation's most celebrated actors. Every aspect suggested a guaranteed success.

      The film was shot entirely in Mauritius, making it the first full-length Hollywood feature filmed there. This choice may seem unusual, but it had practical reasoning: the production required calm, shallow waters for various boat scenes, and the reefs of Mauritius effectively created a natural tank, reducing the costs typically associated with studio settings. Additionally, the island offered a sizable production rebate, which helped to extend the film's budget. Knight sought a location that could resemble the Caribbean, Africa, or anything in between. However, the logistics of shipping equipment from South Africa, along with a crew from various locations, complicated the production process without visibly enhancing the final product.

      The most peculiar aspect of this film, however, is the marketing, or rather the lack thereof. Distributor Aviron Pictures initially planned a wide release campaign. But after test screenings revealed disappointing feedback, everything changed. Aviron quietly withdrew the marketing budget and released the film with minimal promotional effort. Reportedly, McConaughey and Hathaway were incensed — they had signed on expecting a proper campaign, not a January release. Aviron’s statement acknowledged that they tested the film multiple times, found the results unfavorable, and adjusted their strategies accordingly. The film, which cost $25 million to produce, grossed approximately $8.5 million worldwide. This isn’t just a lackluster performance; it represents a near-total collapse during a time when audiences were actively attending theaters to watch a variety of films pre-COVID.

      Aviron's panic becomes understandable, and somewhat justified, once you witness the film's third act. Serenity reveals — with no significant foreshadowing — that Plymouth Island is a fictional location; it exists within a video game. Baker Dill is a character created by his son Patrick, a traumatized teenager who lost his biological father in the Iraq War and developed a fishing simulator as a means to preserve his memory. This premise might sound far-fetched on its own, yet it becomes even stranger. When Patrick’s home life deteriorates due to his stepfather’s abuse, he alters the game to include murder. Jeremy Strong's peculiar subplot — a mysterious businessman in a suit who persistently attempts to sell Baker a fish finder and appears at odd times — is clarified through this revelation: he represents a glitch in the code, an entity symbolizing the game's rules aiming to maintain the integrity of the simulation. In hindsight, every odd moment in the first two-thirds of the film is intentional, while initially, it seems like poor writing.

      Determining whether Serenity’s twist is either a bold take on simulation theory as a metaphor for emotion or one of the most poorly judged structural decisions in recent blockbuster filmmaking is challenging. The reality likely lies somewhere in between. What is undeniable, however, is that it presents a unique challenge for