Given the overwhelming empirical evidence, I think it’s safe to say that human cloning is never going to be a good option for anyone. Whether it’s in a spaceship at the edge of the universe, behind the walls of a sinister government facility, or in some corporate organ-harvesting warehouse, clones are going to cause trouble. Science has this bright idea that our inner struggles aren’t enough and have to go and physically manifest them, completely ignoring the whole “own worst enemy” caveat. When will they learn to leave metaphors alone?
Take poor Sarah (Gillan), for instance. Floating through a listless existence of fast food, whiskey, and a fading relationship, she becomes marginally more alert when she begins vomiting blood. Diagnosed with a fatal, “incredibly rare, incurable disease,” she decides to have herself cloned to carry on after she dies, mostly so her mother, who she hasn’t talked with in months, won’t worry about her. As her double follows Sarah around to get to know the lay of the land, it’s clear from her immediate antagonism that she is Sarah’s nemesis, eclipsing her in all aspects of her life. An abrupt remission 10 months later combined with a statute that dictates that only one Sarah may exist lays the stage for the eventual showdown provided by the film’s homophonic title.
Dual is the third feature from writer/director (and native Austinite) Riley Stearns, and it continues to sharpen the deadpan comedic style from his previous films, 2014’s Faults, and 2019’s The Art of Self Defense. Stearns builds his satire out of cleverly absurd situations and characters who converse in over articulate monotone. Sarah is given a year to train for her fight with her double (to be televised, of course), so she enlists the services of Trent (Paul), a personal combat trainer, who hones both her physical strength and the mental resolve needed to inflict self-murder. Meanwhile, her double has taken over her old life, and the scene where her boyfriend, Peter (Koale), confronts Sarah on why he prefers her double is a brutal litany of those small, accumulating habits that can crack deep into a relationship’s foundation. A harsh moment, but like most of the film, it is unadorned by emotion. Stearns’ film is less interested in examining the complexities of our duality than it is with displaying our societal follies with an irony and disaffection that is Stearns’ trademark. When Dual’s clone confrontation lands on its O. Henry finale, it’s both inevitable and satisfying, another darkly comic deposition to add to the archive.
Read our interview with the director, “Riley Stearns Helps Karen Gillan Look Herself in the Eye,” Jan. 21, at austinchronicle.com/screens.
This article appears in April 15 • 2022.