April 18, 2010: The Ghost Writer
As I delve back into conventional new-release movies following my annual Oscar binge, I am presented with another new entry by a legend in his own time. I won’t go into the details of Roman Polanski’s personal troubles, but it’s hard for anyone to deny the brilliance of his early output such as Rosemary’s Baby (1968) or Chinatown (1974), and I’ve always held a place in my heart for Bitter Moon (1992). It embarrasses me to admit that I haven’t yet seen the film which won him a long-delayed Best Director Oscar, The Pianist (2002). The Ghost Writer (more meaningfully titled simply “The Ghost” in Europe) is a by-the-numbers thriller which is elevated a bit above its inherent limitations through confident direction and casting triumphs which, as I have pointed out before, can be easily achieved by a director with such a long and successful career, who has actors lining up to work with him.
Pierce Brosnan plays a former British Prime Minister who is writing his memoirs. The previous ghost writer having mysteriously died in a ferry accident, Ewan McGregor steps in somewhat reluctantly, lured by the money, to take over where his predecessor left off. It quickly becomes clear that there’s more here than meets the eye, as a scandal begins erupting around Brosnan and his questionable actions while in office. McGregor discovers that the previous ghost writer had done some investigating and turned up damning evidence, and coded his theory/warning into the manuscript of the book, evidently aware of his imminent demise.
The Ghost Writer follows a certain formula, but it’s clearly something that filmgoing audiences don’t mind since people keep making such similar movies. This one keeps the suspense up well enough, with a satisfying conclusion. Coupled with intense supporting work from the likes of Olivia Williams, Tom Wilkinson, and true relic Eli Wallach, along with a forceful cameo by a bald-headed Jim Belushi, The Ghost Writer was a great way to escape from the world on a Sunday night. In an interesting stylistic choice, the film is mostly free of music, but when it’s there it’s reminiscent of the music found in political thrillers from the 1970s.
Oh, but I need to devote a paragraph to Kim Cattrall. Playing Brosnan’s assistant, she’s got a decent amount of screen time in the movie, providing exposition and some intrigue as we wonder how she’s involved with the plot. And I’m a Kim Cattrall fan, glad to see her latter-day career revival with the Sex and the City franchise, which pulled her out of the doldrums of bit parts since her big potential break in Mannequin (1987), and of course who can forget her screaming supporting role in Porky’s (1981)? But here, she puts on a British accent. And nearly brings down the entire movie as a result. Now, admittedly I have always thought she was Canadian but it turns out that she was born in England and moved to Canada when she was 3 months old. Well, guess what? I’ve spent more time than that in the UK, and I think my British accent is probably about as good as hers was in this movie. I just can’t fathom anybody listening to this and thinking it’s acceptable or realistic. It’s like when Kevin Costner or Jeff Goldblum attempts to do an accent, and as soon as they need to raise their voice or speak quickly or express some emotion, the accent goes out the window, and the transition to and from it makes for some seriously distracting amateurishness.
I had enough fun with The Ghost Writer to make it worth my time, but I’d have a hard time recommending it as anything you haven’t seen before.
Polanski treads water, still has potential.
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