For those who find solace in the hushed corners of an old-school library, replete with dark wood furnishings and green-and-gold reading lamps casting warm light, “Chronovisor” promises an evocative experience that explores the darker side of these revered spaces. The film, a feature debut by U.S. writer-directors Jack Auen and Kevin Walker, builds upon the lo-fi aesthetic established in their 2021 short “Marblehead.” Through skillful storytelling, they weave an ornate, occult-inflected sci-fi narrative from the pages of musty academic texts—not merely adapting, but profoundly engaging with them, inviting viewers into a mysteriously atmospheric world that is both intriguing and unsettling.
A Unique Cinematic Experience
Premiering at this year’s Rotterdam festival in January and now enjoying a limited release in U.S. theaters via Grasshopper Films, “Chronovisor” is undoubtedly a niche offering. Yet, its description shouldn’t mislead potential viewers into thinking it is merely a dusty, academic affair. While the film is anchored in text-driven mystery—an inherent challenge for many audiences—its fascinating blend of time-travel theory, Vatican conspiracies, and a hint of Ivy League horror styling promises to capture more viewers’ imaginations. It stands as a remarkable, sui generis piece destined to cultivate a devoted following, marking Auen and Walker as genre innovators worthy of attention.
Intellectual Depth and Authenticity
The filmmakers’ commitment to the intricate world of academia is exemplified by their choice to cast Anne-Laure Sellier, a professor of behavioral sciences at HEC Paris, in the lead role. This choice yields a dual benefit: the intellectual exchanges in the film feel authentic rather than contrived, and Sellier embodies the necessary blend of nervousness and displacement that propels the narrative. She portrays Beatrice, a French scholar of philosophy and neuroscience at Columbia, who struggles with her personal and professional connections, as evidenced in her conversation with a fellow academic in a dimly lit New York restaurant—an exchange that remains void of chemistry, emblematic of her character’s plight.
The Allure of the Chronovisor
More comfortable amidst her research papers than in social settings, Beatrice becomes increasingly obsessed with the elusive concept of the Chronovisor, a purported invention from the 1970s by Italian Benedictine monk Pellegrino Ernetti. This machine, claimed to recover video footage from any point in history—including the crucifixion of Christ—has largely been dismissed as a hoax. Yet, Beatrice’s pursuit of information leads her to a European scientist who tantalizingly asserts true experiences with the device, heightening the stakes of her intellectual quest.
A Tongue-in-Cheek Approach
“Chronovisor” treats its highly ornate premise with a delightful tongue-in-cheek tone, blending the thrilling narrative style of Dan Brown with the elevated prose of Umberto Eco. While the film eventually unveils some lurid truths, it is the process of knowledge gathering that truly captivates. As Beatrice delves into weathered leather-bound tomes, the relevant passages are illuminated and translated onscreen, letting viewers experience her moments of revelation as if sharing in her discoveries.
A Sensorial Tribute to Analog Exploration
In capturing the tactile essence of research, “Chronovisor” cleverly evokes the analog joy of reading, allowing the nostalgic smell of old books to seem almost tangible on screen. Leo Zhang’s evocative 16mm cinematography enhances this experience, portraying the dim glow of isolated bulbs against vast shadows, while the unique soundtrack marries the grand orchestral romantics of Gustav Holst with the ornate kitsch of Gregorian chants. Through this engaging puzzle, Auen and Walker not only pay homage to the printed word but also assert themselves as accomplished filmmakers adept at merging compelling storytelling with rich sensory experiences.
