A Freudian-fueled thriller with slow-burn sensibilities and diamond-sharp turns between each act, “Jonathan” is as engaging as it is unassuming. The story of a man who shares his body with a twin brother trapped inside his psyche, the movie might well have come off the tracks in about a dozen different places were it not so precisely assembled and paced. Tender, suspenseful, and effortlessly capable in its world-building, “Jonathan” accomplishes just about everything it sets out to do.
When the film introduces Jonathan (Ansel Elgort), he’s recording a diary video for his brother, John, filling him in on the day’s particulars. When Jonathan wakes the next day, he turns on the television to watch the message John left for him, which is when the audience learns that both John and Jonathan inhabit the same body. It’s revealed that they leave these video messages for each other so that there aren’t any awkward encounters with people who have interacted with one and not the other, as they keep their condition a secret from everyone except their doctor.
John, his posture and tone relaxed, his clothes baggy and loose, is the free-spirit type while Jonathan, with his modestly parted hair, kempt appearance, and ramrod-straight back, is the more mature half. Like any pair of brothers living together, they snipe at each other about laundry, food, and video game scores, exhibiting a subtle yet genuine level of love. Their routine seems to keep the relationship steady and healthy, too, with one of them conscious between 7 a.m. and 7 p.m., and the other in control between 7 p.m. and 7 a.m. The videos clue the audience into the fact that the brothers share a set of rules to keep either from suffering needlessly due to lack of sleep, random encounters, or even hangovers, and as a system, it seems to work for them.
Trouble bubbles up to the surface when Jonathan suspects that John isn’t living up to his end of their shared bargain. As a result, he investigates to see what his other half has been up to, leading to the discovery of an undisclosed relationship with a woman, Elena (Suki Waterhouse). The doctor that treats John/Jonathan, Dr. Nariman (Patricia Clarkson), acts as a mediator for the dispute and tries to keep the peace, yet this break in the brothers’ shared agreement is serious. Girlfriends are not allowed, and despite John’s feelings, Jonathan stands firm on the agreed upon bylaw prohibiting relationships: a decision that serves as a pivot point for the pair as they struggle to reconcile their shared future.
At its base level, “Jonathan” seems to be a literal presentation of Freud’s theories on the Super Ego/Id, with John representing the impulsive, pleasure-obsessed Id while Jonathan embodies the temperance, control, and morality of the Super Ego. In this scenario, the Ego acts as the arbiter, the safety valve that controls the fluctuation between the Id and Super Ego: a role Dr. Nariman fits to a T. Examined through this lens, “Jonathan” becomes a fascinating exploration of the human condition (as told by Freudians, anyway), with Elgort capably wrestling with a metaphorical representation of the age-old psychological struggle.
For context, “Jonathan” is reminiscent of a “Black Mirror” episode, what with the just-out-of-reach science in a proportional reality setting. Like the successful variations of that television show, this film works best when it succeeds in transporting the viewer into the troubled headspace of the lead. The thought of losing control over one’s body, of being a captive passenger therein, is a frightful concept, and director Bill Oliver does a magnificent job pulling this dread out of the script. Elgort does great work transitioning between his competing personalities, and does convey a sense of fear that rings true to the narrative.
Clarkson is also outstanding as the neurologist that has spent the majority of her career taking care of John/Jonathan, and is careful not to tip the scales too far in either direction when acting as the Ego for each half. It would have been easy to go big with the performance, yet Clarkson wisely dials back all of her scenes to exude a familiar, matriarchal vibe that comes off as effortless and appropriate to the character. About the only character that doesn’t ring entirely true is Elena, who works well for a time as a character, yet doesn’t quite fit into the story outside of her utility as a point of conflict.
John’s undisclosed relationship with Elena is the catalyst for the narrative developments in “Jonathan,” and thus does serve as an important component of the story, yet once she has introduced that hiccup, the script doesn’t seem to know what to do with her. Her burgeoning relationship with Jonathan is indeed interesting, and the scenes between Elgort and Waterhouse play well, yet the third act fails to utilize the character in any satisfying way.
“Jonathan” is a very engaging psychological thriller paced well and buttressed by an interesting thematic concept vis-à-vis the Freudian elements. Elgort does great work juggling what is essentially a dual performance, while Oliver, making his feature directorial debut, here, keeps things clipping along at a taut, engaging pace. Small in scope, yet successful in just about every aspect of its unspooling, “Jonathan” stands tall. [B+]