Jack Starks comes out of the first Gulf War in 1991 with major head trauma and a memory-problem. In 1992 he is locked up in a mental institution, because he appears to have been involved in a murder, but cannot remember what transpired. By means of therapy the doctor dopes him up, puts him in a straightjacket and stuffs him in a body-locker in the institutions morgue. While unable to move inside this claustrophobic space, Jack discovers he can travel through time to the year 2007 where he tries to prevent his death, with the help of an alcoholic waitress to whom he is mysteriously connected. Weird? You betcha. Illogical? Absolutely. Great movie? You better believe it.

The film is directed by John Maybury and produced by such Hollywood deities as George Clooney and Stephen Soderbergh. Arguably it is not for everybody. People with short attention spans, people with a low reality-threshold, people expecting a horror-movie, they will all be pissed off and/or disappointed by this flick. But for those among you who are prepared to take this film at face value, forgive the totally illogical plot and are willing to just roll with this film and let it happen, you people may just have a wonderful evening.

The imagery that Maybury uses is uncomplicated and (therefore) effective. He starts off the film with what appears to be images from night-vision goggles, interlaced with actual news footage to create a feel of the war responsible for our main character’s predicament. And when this movie comes out on DVD I am going to see it again, just so I can run Jack’s morgue-hallucinations by my “one frame at a time”-button. They are promising to be as interesting as the subliminal images in Fight Club were.

The Jacket’s colour palette is mainly pale, lots of whites and greys, thus making the actors faces stick out. The garish brightness of the snowy exterior shots and the ward of the mental institution, contrasts nicely with the claustrophobic darkness of the morgue-locker and the shadowy world of waitress Jackie. Mind you, uncomplicated does not mean stupid or insipid. Maybury just chooses to make colouring, set-dressing and indeed his own direction subordinate to what makes this movie stand out: top class acting across the board.

To be honest, a plotline such as this would have crashed and burned in the hands of less capable actors. But as it is, everybody delivers and to yours truly it was like the acting equivalent of taking your credit card for a spin in a nice big juicy book or shoe store. Adrien Brody proves once more that his Oscar for The Pianist was no fluke. He truly is an actor incapable of a false move. Brody himself is also an argument against Botox, using every line and expression in his face to convey to the audience what is going on inside his character: terror, courage, uncertainty and resignation. But really all he needs are his eyes. Like Marlon Brando before him (and believe me, I know that I am on a slippery slope with this comparison to one of the greatest actors ever) Brody’s eyes alone are capable of giving a complete acting performance. There is more emotion in them than most actors have in their entire bodies.

And then there is Keira Knightley who taps into her character’s desperation (and American accent for that matter) with seemingly effortless grace. I’m not going to add the cliché that she is amazing for a nineteen-year-old for that is nonsense: she is amazing, full stop. Her age is irrelevant her talent is not. Hopefully this movie does for her what she wished it would: rescue her from a career spent in corsets and Jane Austen remakes. Her awesome capabilities deserve that.

Add to that a supporting cast that, to the last part, is filled with top-notch actors and/or acting. Kelly Lynch, Brad Renfro, Stephen Macintosh, Jennifer Jason Leigh, and a beautiful Kris Kristofferson: all at their best. I don’t know to whom Maybury had to promise his firstborn to get this cast together, but it was worth it. Particularly worth mentioning is a flawless Daniel Craig. His appearance as a fellow mental patient provides a tiny bit of comic relief, which is all the more commendable considering the poignancy of his character. Craig fits the bill perfectly.

So if you’re a stickler for plot, story, dialogue and logic sequences of events: stay home and watch the Discovery Channel instead. There’s no shame in that. But if, like me, for you whether a movie is good or not depends largely on the performances, if you prefer a well acted silly story to a badly acted sensible one: go to the cinema, sit down and revel in the acting. It does not get much better than this.