The Forgiven

John Michael McDonagh and his younger brother, Martin, have carved out a prominent place in British/Irish film in the past 20 years or so. With very few features to their name, they've managed to become the type of filmmakers who get eyebrows raised and hands rubbing together whenever a new project is announced. Anyway, that's what happened to me when I heard McDonagh the elder was the director of The Forgiven. It's a morality tale set in Morocco at a posh party on the edge of the Sahara. Ralph Fiennes and Jessica Chastain play David and Jo Henninger, an upper class couple who don't really seem to be getting on - he's a wanker and she's got the complete shits with him. After landing by ferry, they drive through the night to the party, but hit and kill a young guy on the way.

Meanwhile, hosts Richard (Matt Smith) and Dally (Caleb Landry Jones) welcome their guests to a weekend of vulgar debauchery, causing some amount of cultural discord with the local staff. The tardiness of the Henningers is noted and when they eventually arrive, the film sparks into gear. Now, it appears this film has taken a bit of a whaling with some critics but I'm not on that particular whaler. I thought this was top gear. Sure, the set-up is probably stronger than the resolution - much of the dialogue between the snarky, arsehole guests is crackling and it's an oasis if you stumble upon anyone vaguely likeable at the party. Smith is probably the pick in this regard, he acts as the audience conduit, sensible and archly camp at the same time. A career best from him, though I haven't seen him in much else and I'm no Whovian.

Fiennes is pure class, as always, and his arc is the clear rainbow of the film. Honestly, something had to give because he starts out as such a twat that he verges on caricature, but it's not actually the accidental death that drives his change. This comes as a result of meeting the dead boy's ("His name is Driss!") father, Abdellah (Ismael Kanater) and his driver, Anouar (Saïd Taghmaoui - from long ago La Haine). These guys run the dignified native trope a little close but they exude a calm menace - the scenes between them and David are bloody edgy. But it all comes down to taking responsibility for your actions and David's concern that Abdellah won't forgive him is telling. Fiennes' confession to Taghmaoui is an important moment in the story, and it carries a lot of weight.

Chastain is an interesting actor. Her deep eye sockets and perfect teeth give her a waxwork iciness and it works better here than any of her previous films. I think she's supposed to be running the border of entitled bitch and lonely wife in an unhappy marriage, but some of her movements are curiously affecting, like when she dabs Fiennes' head injury after a young local throws a rock at him, and when she shouts "Fuck that!" in response to Fiennes telling her he's been asked to go with the dead boy's father. It's an unusual, ambiguous performance and it fits right into the bacchanalian castle in the desert setting.

The Forgiven is tightly edited by Elizabeth Eves and Chris Gill, has spectacular sandy vistas shot by Larry Smith and the party vibe has a bit of the old Upstairs, Downstairs about it. Hamid (Mourad Zaoui) is the head of staff at the compound and he comes across as a grand prophet of aphorisms but his colleague telling him he should have a twitter account is a nice touch. I reckon it's some effort to make you want to spend more time in the company of a bunch of entitled shitsticks, but McDonagh has achieved this, and for that reason alone, I'd have this as his finest film (certainly vying with Calvary at any stroke).

Oh, and the credits are all in a 70s red AND over the vision at the start, like an old Poirot film with Peter Ustinov. Mint.

The Forgiven opens July 28th at the Luna cinemas. Hey, that's today.

See also:

There's a touch of Robert Altman's Gosford Park (2001) about this, and the 'rich westerners in the desert' motif reminded me of Bernardo Bertolucci's The Sheltering Sky (1990).