The true story of a frightening first-ever for live television involves a depressed news anchor named “Christine”. Rebecca Hall stars in director Antonio Campos’ third feature film, about the story of a woman who finds herself caught in the crosshairs of a spiraling personal life and career crisis. Christine, always the smartest person in the room at her local Sarasota, Florida news station, feels like she is destined for bigger things and is relentless in her pursuit of an on-air position in a larger market. As an aspiring newswoman with an eye for nuance and an interest in social justice, she finds herself constantly butting heads with her boss (Tracy Letts), who pushes for juicier stories that will drive up ratings. Plagued by self-doubt and a tumultuous home life, Christine’s diminishing hope begins to rise when an on-air co-worker (Michael C. Hall) initiates a friendship which ultimately becomes yet another unrequited love. Disillusioned as her world continues to close in on her, Christine takes a dark and surprising turn. “Christine” is rated R for a scene of disturbing violence and for language including some sexual references.

For a biopic, “Christine” treads a little too carefully at what line of political correctness it tiptoes. For a movie with such an intriguing story to anyone who has read the backstory on Christine Chubbock, it really is a story that begs to be told on the big screen, and for that reason alone I was very much looking forward to an insider’s view on what centered around such a dark and ominous story. There in lies the challenge however, as “Christine” is a film that is marred in lack of information that keeps it from ever being a classic worthy of equally matching the tour de force performance from Rebecca Hall, or the wonderful look inside of a news station and social commentary to come out of such a promising decade of change. The movie requires you to do a little digging before you enter the movie. This might not seem like a big deal, but a lot of people don’t want to know everything before they see a movie, therefore defeating the purpose of shock and awe that the movie has going for it. There simply isn’t any attempt to entail Christine’s backstory pre-Sarasota days, and I think that is a major mistake. In addition to this, the movie’s ending was one that I found very depleting considering the entire film is building to this terrible tragedy. There really is nowhere to go once this inevitable event happens, so everything just kind of fizzles out. Even more so is the terrible lack of information that we are never given before the screen fades to black for that taste of regret from such a once promising ideal.

Not everything about the movie is a negative however, as the presentation overall is one very pleasing of sight and sound. Exceptional cinematography by Joe Anderson here is really a step up from the safe work that he has done on films like “Trainwreck” and “The Giver”. What cements his style in photographic vision is his grainy style in camera design that really gives this movie an authentic feel for the time period that it homages. Everything feels dark around our character, and that’s brilliant when it’s played in symbolism to the very bleak and decaying personality of our title character. For the look of the studio, it was a blast from the past, as we are given these gorgeous nostalgic set pieces that really fill the void for a movie that is actually being filmed forty years after it takes place. I was able to fully invest myself in suspending disbelief within this world, and the direction of shooting Christine’s daily lifestyle as one of redundancy pays off in diamonds, mainly because we understand what is going on long before the walls start coming down figuratively.

It was so inspiring to see just what went into every broadcast that is simple in concept, yet difficult in execution for daily telecasts. The visuals for the cut and editing splicing going on in the news room is nothing short of educational for the audience who are currently supplanted in the technological peak. It’s great to see a movie like this foreshadow so much of how we present and view the news today, as the nastier the better, and those kind of concepts started in the 70’s when walls were being broken down when it comes to what was acceptable to put on television in front of a family at home. Tracy Letts character is really up against an insurmountable wall here, considering the bigger cities have the ratings for the bigger stories that they are presenting. It leads the team down a path that they aren’t used to traveling, and certainly presents an informative blueprint for what was the beginning of the current news model that we view today.

Rebecca Hall is hypnotic as Christine, a prisoner of depression who sees her time running out for many goals and aspirations that she has set for herself. The world seems to be moving on without her, and when her depression fits start to set in, it makes for a volcanic emotional response that happens one layer at a time. Being someone who suffers from a similar brand in depression, I found Hall’s performance to be not only faithful, but also enlightening for those of us who worry that they are different because of such a disease. Rebecca’s work here is Oscar worthy, mainly because she exorcises every kind of emotional palate out of the audience from start to finish. In Christine, I loved, laughed, worried, feared, and even hated her at times. Something that Rebecca juggles with such patience without ever coming off as shallow or comical. There really is a war going on inside for her well-being, and Hall’s slow boil will send shivers up your spine that has already felt the cold from a feeling of neglect that Christine deals with on an every day basis.

“Christine” struggles at times to inform its audience not only on the character, but also the final result, which concludes quite anti-climatically. However, the undeniable range in Hall’s single greatest performance to date, as well as an unwavering attention to detail in cinematic design, gives this one all of the push it needs to make this a leading story. Most of all, it’s an emphatic, gripping look into the unforgiving nature of mental illness. A faithful reprieve to those of us who suffer with such sorrow.

7/10