On Pluto. The mysterious, icy wastes of... oh wait, wrong film.

Peacock is a heavy mindfuck. It's a psychological thriller and it exhausts you mentally. The story may not be the most original one, but it's told in a way that makes you uncomfortable to watch, and I don't mean it in that bad way. It crawls underneath your skin and bugs the hell out of you. Cillian Murphy did an excellent job, especially as John, he's almost unrecognizable (which is in a way ironic, since his other character is a woman). He portrays the most tedious details to perfection, anything starting from the tone of voice, through the eye contact, the way he walks, to ticks and mannerism. If there's such a thing as an "Oscar-worthy role", it surely is one. Since Peacock wasn't screened in New York/LA though, rules supposedly state that it can't get nominated for the Academy Awards, which would be an awful shame if it is true.

Yes, it has to be said: Emma isn't a spitting image of Kitten Braden. They could be sisters, but not twins.

(Emma - Peacock)

(Kitten - Breakfast on Pluto)