I genuinely enjoyed Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man, despite being almost equally irritated by the movie in various ways.

Though the worst transgression as far as I’m concerned is that it’s an “Invisible Man” movie where the invisible man is a secondary character in what’s typically – or should be – his own story.

That makes no sense to me because why call it what it isn’t? – other than “money,” and this movie made a butt-load of it – Yes. that’s the scientific term – earning over $128 million on a budget of $7 million.

That’s quite the rate of return.

And sure, you could be referring to “Invisible Man” in a rhetorical sense, in that Adrian Griffin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) is essentially “invisible” long before he dons the suit, as a white male “invisible” to the scrutiny that any other person would likely undergo in a similar situation.

The problem with that is H.G. Wells in his novel is not talking about a metaphor, he’s literally telling a story of a man that has the ability to render himself invisible.

And that story isn’t negated by Whannell’s movie, though it is the story it purports to tell, and that’s definitely not the case.

And I can’t speak for anyone else, but I have a problem with that.