Latency 2024 Movie Review
The wild success of shows like The Last of Us and Fallout proves that video game adaptations are all the rage right now. People love to escape into digital worlds — even bleak, post-apocalyptic ones. But what happens when that line between reality and fiction starts to blur? What happens when your life becomes just as terrifying as what you’re playing — when it becomes something you can’t escape even after you put down the controller and power off the console? That’s the question Latency, written and directed by James Croke, poses.
Latency is a lean film in terms of both cast and setting, revolving around only two main characters — protagonist Hana (Sasha Luss) and her best friend, Jen (Alexis Ren) — and taking place solely in Hana’s apartment. The catalyst comes when Hana, an agoraphobic video game tester, receives a fancy new console called Omnia, which clips onto the back of her head. Through this, Omnia promises to be able to register her neurological activity for a seamless gaming experience. Among other things, her reaction time will essentially drop to zero.
It seems too good to be true — and it is. Hana quickly becomes paranoid and exhausted, fearful that Omnia might be having a sinister impact on her psyche. But as much as she tries to distance herself from the device, Omnia refuses to go easily, and Hana devolves into madness — a confusing and terrifying situation where she is both victim and potentially perpetrator.
Latency’s visuals can be fun, and it gets off to a promising start with a sequence where we are fully immersed in the game Hana is playing, seeing her physically fighting off monsters before it’s revealed she’s testing out a new game. The style feels vaguely reminiscent of the underrated Sucker Punch, which sees Emily Browning’s character toggle between the real world and an ultra-stylized, steampunk-esque alternate reality in her head. Unfortunately, after this beginning scene, the technique is rarely utilized again, with only a few short callbacks. This is especially disappointing considering the film is mainly limited to Hana’s apartment. Instead of the confined space amping up the tension and sense of claustrophobia, it simply starts to get a little boring — something that could have been helped by allowing us to see the space in a different light through the game on more occasions.
The gaming element, in general, seems to fall more and more to the wayside the further we get into the movie, which is a shame. Hana’s job as a video game tester is a fresh and intriguing idea, but we don’t get to see that side of her much. The concept of a gaming tournament with a huge prize pool — one that could win Hana the rent she desperately needs — is ripe for tension, but the execution doesn’t have you on the edge of your seat. It pulls back on its most interesting set-ups, leaning into shallow horror tropes that don’t add up to much.
There’s a similar issue with the central technology, Omnia. With recent advancements in AI and VR, Omnia seems like it could actually exist. And it’s cool to watch it do its thing, like when Hana first types with her mind. The whole calibration process — 11 exercises Hana must do, culminating in her needing to hurt herself while the device registers it — adds nice suspense, slowly amping up the stakes while simultaneously making us feel uneasy about how realistic it is. The film manages to successfully make the task of taking a knife to her skin so that it doesn’t seem all that wild or far-fetched. It does need to monitor when she experiences pain, after all.
The problem is, that’s what we’re limited to seeing. The specificity of how this device actually works goes away after the initial calibration process, and Omnia simply becomes some sleek green swirls on Hana’s computer screen, a white clip on the back of her head, and a disembodied voice talking saying vaguely ominous things like “Omnia is with you always” and “Omnia is a tool — it will only do what you ask of it.” Sure, there needs to be an air of mystery for the psychological thriller elements to work — for Hana to question her reality — but it still feels like a big missed opportunity not to dig deeper into the fascinating intricacies of the technology itself. The film also stops short of exploring bigger themes in earnest, barely scratching the surface of topics like the dangers AI could bring into our world or technology’s impact on mental health and socialization.
A large part of Latency’s success hinges on its lead performance, as the majority of the film sees Hana alone interacting with Omnia and her surroundings. Luckily, Luss’ performance is one of the highlights, as she is able to adequately hold the audience’s attention even when she’s the only one in the scene. Luss possesses the large range required of her, swinging rapidly between being paranoid and menacing, confident and cripplingly terrified.
The film also does a decent job of showcasing agoraphobia — something that’s not often touched on in media. Luss believably plays someone afflicted with this anxiety disorder, her fear when there’s a delivery man at the door palpable. The movie is respectful in its depiction of agoraphobia as well, taking it seriously and treating it like the paralyzing condition it can be. It’s refreshing to see Jen work to truly understand and be there for Hana, accepting her limitations, supporting her by coming over and cooking food, and gently nudging her in the direction of healing.
While this is sweet to see, unfortunately, the dynamic between them is usually hollow. There is loads of potential there — especially with the fact that Hana is constantly called a “has-been,” whereas it’s implied Jen has more social popularity now — but that’s never delved into or explored, nor is their past touched on in any meaningful way. Instead, it’s limited to banter that falls flat and inauthentic. It doesn’t help that Ren is not a particularly strong actor — something that is painfully, awkwardly obvious alongside Luss — and is never able to sell her cliché lines or underdeveloped, stereotypical best friend role.
There is a nice twist at the end of the film that somewhat weaves everything together, effectively uniting Hana’s past and present. The way the overall plot ties up is clever, though some of the imagery is never explained in any satisfying manner. As a result, some of the scares seem to be there purely for shock value or because they look cool without actually contributing to the character development or story. An overreliance on nightmares and repetitive flashbacks add to this notion.
Latency is admirable in that it tries to do a lot with the budget and location restraints — and sometimes succeeds, especially when it comes to its lead performance and some of the technology and visuals. Unfortunately, it focuses on the wrong aspects and seems to be working against its concept instead of with it. The film has the pieces and potential to be a brilliant character study and peek into a new, exciting world of technology and gaming. It’s just too bad it forgoes this route to become a middling, vague psychological thriller instead.
