A contented housewife, an insufferable stuffed shirt and a man of leisure collide in an accident that challenges their morals.
By: Bob Brown
If only James Manning and his wife, Anne, had a moral philosopher among their friends rather than the likes of Bill Buehle, their ethically challenged upper-class neighbor. What a spot of trouble they’ve backed into, thanks partly to Bill. And it’s each other’s fault, to listen to them.
This sometimes-serious, often-satirical film is based on a story by the English novelist and screenwriter Nigel Balchin (d. 1970). Mr. Balchin wrote prolifically. A few of his well-regarded novels were made into films after World War II, and some screenplays saw the light in his brief Hollywood period. He is waiting to be rediscovered by a new generation or not, depending on your taste in neat endings.
More than a tale of betrayal and personal failure (although it is that), this movie chronicles the anatomy of a marriage unraveling. Things don’t start out that way. No, indeed. Everything between James (Tom Wilkinson) and Anne (Emily Watson) seems perfect as fox pie. They have their home in the country and their BMW. James is a high-powered solicitor in London, where work sometimes keeps him too late for Anne to meet him at the train.
No matter. Anne is a contented housewife who cooks up picture-perfect meals and, with the help of their housekeeper, Maggie (Linda Basset), keeps everything orderly as the demanding James likes it. But, as with all perfection, there’s a tiny loose thread. It develops into a large rend after Anne bumps into a handsome stranger at a community cricket match, Bill Buehle (Rupert Everett).
Bill is a man at leisure. Having returned from a time in New York, and having divorced, he lives at his family’s grand estate a bit up the road. Bill’s demeanor is the picture of ennui. He cares for nothing. This indifference to anything and anyone is an aphrodisiac to a middle-aged wife who is fed up with her husband’s high expectations.
But there’s more. An accident has happened on the road opposite the Manning house. A hit-and-run driver knocks a man off his bicycle. Maggie, who has seen the accident from an upstairs window, is sure the SUV involved was Bill’s. She has a personal interest in finding the culprit, because the victim was her husband.
As each revelation emerges, a close-knit web of connections (it is a small village, after all) is exposed. What should be told? What left out? Who should be protected from the truth? And who deserves to be hurt by it? As dark secrets are brought to light, fresh lies are prepared to deal with them. Positions shift, depending on whose ox is gored. Hypocrisy is opposed to honesty, as the two vie for the same outcome: the least amount of hurt for the most people.
Up to a point, the script, from a screenplay by the director, Julian Fellows, is witty and full of twists and surprises. Dialogue is droll in an understated English way. Laughs may take a little time for the funny bone to be hit by the punchline. Mr. Fellows has some sterling credits to his name, including the screenplay for Gosford Park. This is his first directorial outing.
He’s lucked out, with a terrific cast. Mr. Wilkinson, a very busy man of late, has a perfect ear for the kind of insufferable stuffed shirt he plays. Being a gentleman, he is pointedly polite while he pushes his agenda on others. He is a man of principle, whose principles can change as necessary.
Ms. Watson’s Anne is a waiflike wife who lets it all hang out when she finds that crack in the machine. Mr. Everett has no trouble at all playing lovable cads. Would that there were more of them for him to play.
Sad to say, all this intriguing fuss and bother eventually fizzles out. Who is responsible, whether the late Mr. Balchin or Mr. Fellows, is not clear. Certainly, the cast does the best it can with the hand they’re dealt. The resolution, while satisfying on one level, is so abrupt that the audience may feel cheated out of knowing how things got the way they did. There is a suggestion that life can be, after all, tidied up by time, but it tumbles on so quickly that the transitions are missing.
One has come to know the characters based on the central incident. But how they come out seems not to fit. To push closure, the plot devises a convenient escape hatch, which feels manipulative and false. The mess that preceded this was much more fun. This has not been a drama that seemed destined for a trouble-free, tidy ending. Perhaps that’s what audiences would have liked back in the ’60s, whether in a novel or a screenplay. Trouble-free doesn’t quite cut it these days.
Rated R. Contains language, including some sexual references.