Redux Redux is a multiversal story in the abstract, but there are a few ground rules that’re established straight away. Reality might be infinite, but there’s a finite means of traveling between universes; in this contemporary, Santa Claria-set film, the grieving mother Irene Kelly (Michaela McManus) has searched for the fry cook Neville (Jeremy Holm), who murdered her daughter Anna (Grace Van Dien). The distinguishing component of Redux Redux’s multiversal concept is that hopping between universes doesn’t allow for significant time travel. Irene can only return to a fixed point in each universe, and thus far they’ve all been after her daughter was killed. As a result, her experience in each reality is one of revenge; she’s been able to kill Neville in various ways, but it hasn’t brought Anna back.”
The bare-bones worldbuilding of Redux Redux is a smart framing device and an indictment of its budgetary limitations. There’s nothing to suggest that the film doesn’t take place in a reality that’s much different than our own, and how Irene first accessed the multiversal device is alluded to, but never outright explained. On one hand, Redux Redux would’ve collapsed its pacing had it dedicated the first act of the film to a meticulous explanation on the emergence of this advanced teleportation device and its specific capabilities. On the other hand, the depiction of “universe-hopping” (the film’s words) is hokey; Irene’s device isn’t much different than the phone booth time machine from Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, but it’s not framed as a satire. Most of the exposition is through dialogue, and the explanations of how the technology is intended to work is where Redux Redux is most amateurish.
The extended time spent by Irene in each universe is where Redux Redux is at its most compelling because a parallel’s drawn to addiction. Revenge has become Irene’s defining characteristic, and she hasn’t made any efforts to make herself a better person because of her understanding that her time in each reality is limited. Since she’s departed each universe after killing Neville, there’s no permanence to her actions other than personal satisfaction. It’s suggested that any desire for justice that Irene once had has melted away, and that revenge is her only way to cope with the unbearable weight of having lost a child. That Anna’s only seen briefly is an important choice, because Irene has spent so much time in her revenge fantasies that she’s become less connected from the love that inspired them.
The vague hope that Irene might stumble upon a universe where Anna’s still alive is a dream; similar to how “Judgment Day” must occur within any timeline in The Terminator franchise, the inciting incident of Anna’s death is a fixed point that can’t be walked back. A film centered around how the universe is heartless might’ve been interesting, but it also would’ve made its point early on and quickly become derivative. Redux Redux has a slightly widened aperture with its suggestion that there’s a spiritual fate for Irene to cure her hopelessness. After a failed attempt to take out Neville, Irene’s path is crossed with that of the teenager Mia (Stella Marcus), one of the killer’s other potential victims.
Mia’s role is thematically blatant; Irene’s lost her daughter, and Mia’s revealed to have lost her parents. However, the idea of newfound motherhood is less satisfying than the notion that Irene has to accept the consequences of one reality in order to feel anything. Chasing ghosts has disconnected her from emotion, and the most challenging task is to find someone else to care about in the same way as Anna. It helps that Marcus’ performance as Mia is a burst of energy, and that having a character who can question the illogic of the film’s premise is essential for something as concept-driven as Redux Redux. The film doesn’t explicitly show the maternal dynamic with Anna that would make Irene feel more justified, but it does give enough reason to care about Mia’s fate.
A violent loner humbled by a bright young child is a recurring theme in many time travel films; even when ignoring the obvious example of Sarah and John Connor in Terminator 2: Judgment Day, there’s Looper, 12 Monkeys, Tenet, and Minority Report. It’s nonetheless effective, especially because Marcus’ Mia is just as resistant to a new parental figure as Anna is to giving up pursuit of her daughter; Mia’s at the right age to understand that grown-ups don’t automatically develop a code of chivalry.
Redux Redux was written and directed by the brothers Kevin and Matthew McManus, who’ve made similarly high-concept independent films for over a decade. Redux Redux isn’t just their most imaginative idea yet, but the most advanced work of filmmaking; the budgetary handicaps don’t mask the well-orchestrated choreography, haunting visuals, and willingness to trust the actors. Redux Redux isn’t a great film, but the McManus brothers could make on one in the future.