The Debt is the ultimate exercise in misdirection. Not so much because it is a film full of plot-twists (because it’s not), but because it has you thinking that you are watching one thing when you’re really watching something else entirely. You see, the movie possesses the three key Hollywood elements that make you think you are viewing movie greatness:
1. An esteemed cast featuring players known for dramatic
roles (i.e. Helen Mirren, Tom Wilkinson, Ciaran Hinds, Jessica Chastain)
2. Heavy hitting subject matter set against the backdrop of
a major historical event – Mossad secret agents capturing a Nazi War criminal
in East Berlin post World War 2.
3. People with European accents.
The misdirection then resides in the fact that you are not really
watching a good movie at all. In fact, the
movie – like a lot of the accents in the film – is just plain bad.
For me, that epiphany came during the third act when the
misdirection faded and I realized that I was being lulled into apathy. It didn’t matter that writer Matthew Vaughn
and director John Madden (not that John Madden) had thrown everything but the
kitchen sink at me. Troubled pasts, a festering
love triangle, hand-to-hand combat, covert operations, a scandalous cover up –
not one of these element made me care a lick about how things would play
out.
Helen Mirren, Tom Wilkinson, and Ciaran Hinds are pedestrian
as the three Mossad agents. Jessica
Chastain, Marton Csokas, and Sam Worthington – as the flashback younger
versions of the aforementioned trio do not fare much better. If for nothing else, at least that makes for
consistency. The issue at hand here is
that the premise, the material, the composition of the cast all seem to aspire
to achieve some great level of film-making, but no one is seemingly
up to the task of stepping up.
When done well, drab lighting and slow pacing can be
considered art. When done poorly it is
lazy directing and cinematography. And
while walking around a film with one persistent scowl may work for Christian Bale, for the rest of Hollywood it comes off as a half-hearted attempt at
exuding gravitas. And so the peril the
protagonists face and the claustrophobia of their situation never really
manifest onscreen. In fact, I found
myself wishing that someone would put Jesper Christensen’s Doktor Bernhardt
down for the count - not so much for his crimes against humanity but more so that the end credits would roll.
Unfortunately, it takes a good two hours for that to happen. Had I not paid for the digital rental, I
would have pulled the ripcord long before things faded to black. I cannot recommend this movie – neither as a
rental nor for cable TV. I never thought
I would utter these words in regards to a Helen Mirren movie, but I preferred
her performance in Arthur.
Standout Performance:
If I had to pick one person, I would say Jessica Chastain. But since I don’t, I will say none.
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