Setting its tone from the very beginning, this tight, well-acted and engrossing thriller exudes the intimacy of a theatre production, but still plays extremely well on film. Opening with two men gathering the tools needed for a kidnapping; they are skilled, efficient, and have obviously planned the impending abduction with intrinsic care. Once the abduction takes place, the film becomes more dialogue heavy, as we learn the motivations of those involved. Needless to say, this was never going to go as smoothly as planned.
Eddie Marsan is a searing presence on screen. There's something about him; how he looks, and how he delivers his lines, that just throws you off the second the camera is on him. Here he's portraying what would initially appear to be a borderline sociopath, someone who has spent months painfully going over the details of what could ostensibly change his life - basically one scary bastard. Martin Compston is obviously the more inexperienced of the two; he looks to Marsan's character constantly for reassurance and guidance, of which he is only happy to give - often in a saliva spraying tirade. At the centre of the kidnapping is a surprising appearance from Gemma Arterton as the titular Alice Creed; a young woman with a rich father, whose love is about to be tested.
Every time the plot takes a turn you buy it, mainly because it doesn't take the piss; taking a left turn every time you expect it to take a right. It's hard to believe writer/director Blakeson was one of the guys behind the awful sequel to The Descent, as here his dialogue is pragmatic, with little in the way of procrastination. Once the set-up and tone is clear, he then goes about peeling the layers, which he does with admirable precision. He has also cast extremely well, with the three leads the only characters ever on screen.
Marsan is predictably intense, but also rather brilliant; paralleling Compston's apparent naivety, the two balance each other out, and both performances are top drawer. We only ever really get to experience what Alice is going through from the eyes of her abductors. Despite this, Arterton is fearless, giving a brave and unflinching performance that couldn't have been easy to shoot. There is some graphic stuff here, but it's never gratuitous.
Purposefully claustrophobic, budgetary constraints work firmly in its favour; The Disappearance Of Alice Creed doesn't do anything wildly innovative with a well worn set-up, but its executed and played with admirable skill. Well worth seeing.