by Howard Anderton
Oh, man, how many times have I walked by this movie at Blockbuster and said, “I should get this one!” And then I’d rent something like “Iron Man 2.”
“The Ghost Writer,” notorious because its director, Roman Polanski, was arrested before its completion. The advertising promised little more than a ho-hum thriller from the director of “The Pianist.”
I didn’t care.
It showed up on some top ten lists. I put it in my Netflix queue after “Heavyweights.”
I just finished it. I’ve been wowed. It would be hard to define “The Ghost Writer” as a great film–it isn’t quite great–but it is worth a watch for its ridiculously fine performances, including a career best for Pierce Brosnan, who executes the most perfectly timed spit-take I’ve ever seen outside of a Looney Tunes cartoon.
There’re a lot of stills in this post. I want you to see Roman Polanski’s visual strategy: superbly blocked master shots interspersed with uncomfortable wide-angle closeups.
The film’s about this Ghost Writer, played by Ewan MacGregor,* who gets hired to write Tony Blair’s–I mean Pierce Brosnan’s–memoirs. He goes to this really cool house in New England. Mysterious hijinks ensue. I can’t spoil anything. It’s a mystery movie.
Polanski’s direction is truly remarkable. Here is a director who does not sex up his technique: it will either bore you or immerse you–either way, the viewer is challenged. He delivers no exclamation points. The big surprises of the film: an unexpected act of lovemaking, a fairly cliched at of violence in the third act, and the splendid final shot–take place in long shot, out of frame, or in the shadows. Polanski is subtle, meticulous, and knows the power of voyeurism.
This film is a Hitchcock homage. It is plotted like a Hitchcock film. It is shot like a Hitchcock film. Most of the costumes remind me of a Hitchcock film.
Many scenes are played in two or three shots, with strong horizontal lines and expansive framing.
I won’t spoil the plot. It ends up being a standard-issue anti-war paranoia piece, wrapped in gold tinfoil by Polanski. But politics and slight ridiculousness aside, it’s a fun, cool thriller. Your tolerance for the Hitchcock approach–which is founded on bringing audiences to eventually accept a ridiculous idea anyway–will determine how much you like the film. I think you’ll enjoy it.
So maybe you’ve seen this flick on Netflix, at Blockbuster, or Amazon streaming. Whatever your poison, The Ghost Writer is a worth your time.
Howard Anderton is a freelance writer based in LV.
* Holy mackerel, it’s nice to see Ewan MacGregor not faking an American accent for once. He is, in fact, very fine in this film, and gives a remarkably well-modulated performance.
