Buried

I had lots of reasons to avoid this 2010 Ryan Reynolds thriller. I'm horribly claustrophobic (that's not an overused, cliched use of the term; I panic in small spaces), and I'm terribly celebofthemomentphobic (an overused, cliched term I created to explain my suspicion of hot celebs, like Ryan Reynolds).

Except for his upcoming Green Lantern flick...I'm too much a fanboy to dis that one, of course.

So Mrs. Film Geek had to beg me to sit with her to watch Buried. She said something about her interest in the movie being based in genre, but I couldn't help notice her excitement when she saw the good-looking Reynolds was the star. So after popping some extra-buttered popcorn, I settled in to be disappointed.

I wasn't.

Buried tells the story of truck driver Paul Conroy, who works in Iraq during the height of the recent war. The film opens--and takes place completely in--a 6.5 ft. by 3 ft. wooden box buried six feet under the sand in the Iraqi desert. In the box with Conroy is a lighter, a flask, a glow-stick, a cell phone and a pencil. He has no idea who put him there, and no idea how he's going to get out.

One of the most incredible aspects of Buried is its statement of how our society has changed over the years in regard to social interaction. As Conroy attempts to use his telephone to call for help, he's put on hold, forced to interact with automated answering services, and told by the few humans he reaches that they can't help him. People are so self-involved that they don't really listen to a man trying to explain that he's buried in a box in the Iraqi desert and that he's going to die if he doesn't get help soon.

The conversation with the Human Resources director of the company for which Conroy works is particularly troubling.

The angles filmed by director Rodrigo Cortes are used brilliantly to let the audience feel the alternating desperation and hope that Conroy experiences. The movie is compelling, and Reynolds is, [ahem] very good in the role.

Even if he is eye candy.