The Double is a long way from Dostoevsky, its nominal inspiration, and a fair distance from filmmaker Richard Ayoade’s promising debut Submarine. That was a snazzy, skilful kaleidoscope of schoolboy life. The new film is a snagged doppelgänger drama, caught on the barbed wire of portentous plotting and styling. Jesse Eisenberg’s perplexed encounters with an identical work colleague, in a Brazil-like future of noir-lit mega-bunker offices, may be intended for comedy as well as menace. It doesn’t succeed as either. We are not scared. And wit-wise the film is as funny as a headache and as repetitive, gonging away in strokes of antic-zany doom. Mia Wasikowska, James Fox are among those lost in a plot that needed Kafka or Borges to enhance and elucidate it.