Marston unpacks this vital information far earlier and less ceremoniously than the film’s shadowy, secretive tone might lead auds to expect. The only one quietly unenchanted is Tom, and with good reason - for he knew Alice when she was Jenny, and they were lovers. One guest brings a date in the glamorously black-clad form of Alice, who immediately delights the party with her wit, smarts and offbeat anecdotes of far-flung biological research in Tasmania. Cut to the decidedly more streamlined life of Tom (Michael Shannon), a tightly wound government official living comfortably in Brooklyn with his jewelry-designer wife Rehema (Azita Ghanizada), and celebrating his birthday with an intimate gathering of friends and co-workers. The truth is less surreal than it appears, if hardly less strange: Alice, as she calls herself for most of the film, has been in an amorphous state of identity for 15 years, casually shedding incarnations and attachments without a backward glance. Weisz’s character - if, indeed, she can be said to play just one - is introduced in a shuffling variety of guises, from hippy-dippy adult student to sleekly coiffed magician’s assistant, before becoming submerged in a spin-cycle of ocean waves. Edited with dreamy fluidity, an oblique pre-credit sequence initially suggests this may be a mystery of Shane Carruthian proportions.
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