Unexpectedly, Stark's personal film received a much better response than anticipated. Since, after all, it wasn't a family-friendly movie and the ratings were relatively high, the box office expectations were quite low. However, the actual box office was quite good.
Another surprising point was the media ratings, which were quite positive, generally giving it above-average evaluations, with some even providing high praises. Many famous critics, who were dismissive before the film's production, also provided favorable reviews.
What the audience consistently mentioned in their praise was the element of "surprise." Almost everyone believed Tony Stark would surely produce a superhero-style movie showcasing his heroic battles, with the main content being him in that mecha suit, leading a legion of robots, defeating villains and saving the world.
No one had any expectations beyond this, as they knew Stark too well. He was incredibly ostentatious, never missing a chance to display his talent.
So most people expected to see a completely boastful movie, simply put, self-celebratory. Many even went with a mindset to watch a comedy, wanting to see Stark bragging throughout the movie, and planned to mock him on social media afterward.
But surprisingly, Stark didn't do that. On the contrary, he moved forward by retreating, starting to depict his childhood and youth. Particularly, he exposed his most vulnerable side, with the entire story built on the spiritual prison of his deep pain from the loss of his parents.
In the film, Stark appeared without any superhero aura; quite the opposite, he looked ragged, chaotic, turning upside down. One might say, if not for his face and those eyes, many would think he seemed too weak.
The portrayal was indeed like this: faced with the sudden fall of a corpse, he was at a loss; facing Shiller, he fled in panic; facing Strange, he offered no useful suggestions, and almost the entire movie was about him being pursued.
He was the typical horror movie protagonist, lacking any subjective initiative, always going with the tide when encountering danger, only displaying terrified screaming.
As the saying goes, art abounds in precision. Stark in the film was just right, neither excess nor deficiency. His character and actions were not likable, yet he possessed such eyes.
The emotional impact of those eyes was overwhelming, easily drawing people into Stark's situation, making everyone feel that his behavior in that environment was entirely normal, for he was excessively terrified and anxious, so achieving little was also understandable.
This is where an actor's skill is crucial. If unable to make the audience empathize, many behavioral logics don't hold up to scrutiny. But if the audience is drawn in, they'll find excuses for the actor's reckless actions.
Stark was just like that. Every audience member felt, first faced with the terrible news of his parents' death, and then stricken with severe anxiety disorder, his medication being switched, followed immediately by directly confronting a murder case; anyone would collapse, naturally not overly criticized.
Instead, this character design brought a lot of surprises to the audience. Initially expecting a very narcissistic macho protagonist, above all performing how wealthy, smart, and powerful he was, they were surprised by Stark's choice to examine his most vulnerable part.
Undoubtedly, this enabled more people to understand him, or at least think they understood him better.
People attributed his Playboy days of downfall to the extreme pain he suffered during that time, choosing such a method to numb himself. Although this isn't far from the truth, getting people to understand it is quite challenging.
Stark himself would never stand up and say, "I had my difficulties," "I went through such and such hardships, leading to my indulgence at that time." Because he deemed this as making excuses for his mistakes, showing weakness and escape, and he never wanted anyone to think he was weak.
Yet under Shiller and others' persuasion, Stark unwillingly revealed his vulnerability. This diminished Iron Man's "divinity" while adding to Tony Stark's "humanity," and humans inevitably err, but a once fallen man who redeems himself is invaluable.
So even if this film's content and theme differed completely from the original conception, it unexpectedly achieved the intended effect, even far beyond expectations.
Beyond the surprising theme portrayal, the film's content was solid as well. Although Chris had never shot a suspense movie before, mostly opting for warm comedies, actually "Ilvermorny" had already been a significant blockbuster, providing him a lot of experience.
The film indeed had clever elements. Chris chose the simplest way to execute the twist, and because it was simple, it could better showcase the allure of a twist than many convoluted or pretentious movies could.
Many might have heard of the professional term "narrative tricks" in the detective novel world. It refers to using a blind eye technique during narration, intentionally misleading readers through perspective shifts or subjective descriptions by certain individuals, achieving a reversed feeling upon truth revelation.
For example. If you say "there is an apple here" from God's perspective, then it cannot be overturned later, otherwise, it will not be able to maintain logical rigor and fair reasoning. The author says there is an apple here, so there must be an apple here. It can't be an orange, nor a pear.
However, if a person uses the first-person perspective to say he took an apple from here to eat, then there's room for manipulation. Because all of this is based on his subjective judgment. Perhaps by "here" he does not mean the place readers think of; perhaps the apple was not taken but stolen; perhaps it was not an apple at all, but a trick of the eye. Overturning this conclusion later is quite simple.
So many mystery novel authors use this point to play narrative tricks, achieving the effect of concealing the truth in the early stages, preventing readers from quickly figuring out the murderer, and having a surprising reveal in the later stages.
Chris also played the simplest narrative trick. At the opening, he directly showed a scene where Stark saw the mirror filled with people. Because the scene depicted was directly shot in the mirror, many people would consider it to be seen from Stark's first-person view, and the human eye can be deceptive.
Following this, flashbacks were introduced into the storyline, repeatedly using various images to emphasize that Stark suffers from severe anxiety disorder, constantly experiencing hallucinations. These hallucinations are bizarre and varied. This completely undermined the credibility of Stark's perspective, making the audience naturally feel that those figures in the mirror were Stark's hallucinations.
The logical chain is approximately this: Stark has an anxiety disorder — anxiety disorders can cause hallucinations — the ghosts in the mirror are all hallucinations.
If analyzed this way, it's not hard to see that these three points have no necessary causal relationship. Anxiety disorder does not necessarily lead to hallucinations, nor is there any evidence proving that the mirror images are hallucinations.
However, using such narrative methods, it's easy for people to mistakenly attribute the result. This is a common reasoning fallacy and played a great role in misdirection.
Chris had another clever idea here. That is, using the retro decor style of Rodrix Manor and the perfectly timed weather in Hampton to create a "traditional reasoning" atmosphere.
As the saying goes, snowstorms, estates, and banquets are just too suitable for murder. When everyone sees all this, they will think it must be another "snowstorm mansion" kind of story, probably set in the late 18th to early 19th century, involving nobles, servants, celebrities, with a detective who is an out-of-towner wearing a beret and holding a pipe, possibly with a military doctor assistant or something.
No one would think about why Iron Man isn't wearing his battle armor in such an atmosphere, why the Supreme Magician doesn't use magic, or where the guests' flying shuttles should park. Because these elements completely mismatch with the scene of the estate, they shouldn't appear at all.
This further deepened the misdirection, making the audience never think about the supernatural, focusing single-mindedly on believing this is an adaptation of an old-fashioned traditional detective film.
Of course, because the anxiety hallucinations were covered so well, if no clues were offered to the audience, it'd be unfair. So Strange showed a little bit of his magical prowess, to plainly tell the audience, there indeed is magic.
However, this was another blind eye technique. Since Strange plays the Supreme Magician in other films, and his take-off action didn't serve much plot advancement, everyone thought the director was playing an actor cameo joke.
Later, Schiller used a series of very rigorous deductions to eliminate all human suspicions. At this point, the clues provided to the audience were far greater than those concealed, and surely a portion of the audience would deduce it.
Both detective novels and films are like this. Some people enjoy deducing the truth, while others don't think at all and just wait for the final reveal, waiting for the surprise twist.
Neither group is wrong, but balancing them is a problem. Giving too many clues would make the deduction enthusiasts feel bored, lacking challenge if the puzzle is too simple. However, giving too few clues, although better crafting plot twists for those who enjoy them, makes it too hard for those who enjoy reasoning. Looking at it this way, no matter how it's done, someone will give it a bad review.
Chris balanced this well. The deduction enthusiasts couldn't say that he didn't give enough clues. He opened by showing the ghostly scene to all the audience, and those ghosts in the mirror were not just one or two, but a whole legion, looking eerie and frightening.
Strange's flight was also not obscured by any shot, just stood right in the center of the frame, directly flew up from the balcony, clearly filming him flew to the rooftop.
In the end, the deductions carried out by Schiller were done very clearly, analyzing point by point. So those who couldn't deduce it can't blame the director for not giving clues—it's purely their own limitations.
As for the twist lovers, they can certainly feel sufficient surprise. After all, upon discovering there was indeed a supernatural force, all previous clues would resurface, leaving people with a "no wonder" feeling, and many would feel quite satisfied by this.
And the final scene, with the monster shot delivered, can be said to be the climax among climaxes. Nobody expected that the final twist would just be a few seconds of footage, and after showing this clip, it ends crisply and neatly, without a single superfluous word. This only made that shot all the more impactful.