An Acceptable Loss
opens with Elizabeth 'Libby' Lamm arriving for her first day teaching
at a prestigious Chicago university, being met by demonstrators whose
placards talk about death and genocide. Lamm is former security
advisor at the highest levels of the government, and through
flashbacks we see her involved in a major decision about Middle East
policy, arguing with her boss, Rachel Burke, a senior politician, to
whom she is counseling caution. Lamm is now living alone in a large
house, has no computer, no email, no phone. Each night she works by
the light of one lamp, writing in longhand on yellow legal pads.
Although she has been brought in by the head of the department, many
of her colleagues and staff are stand-offish. She is also being
stalked by a student, Martin, who seems increasing obsessed with her.
From this beginning,
writer/director Joe Chappelle has structured a timely political thriller,
whose presentation, a slow drip of flashbacks and minimal exposition,
builds up to some surprising conclusions. It's an intelligently shot
film: with a contrast between the warm colours of the campus, the
empty shadows of Lamm's life, and the darker, harder colder colours
(much of it in washed out balck and white) of her history in power.
But its the structure of the movie that is the challenge, because
information is deliberately withheld, even relatively simple facts,
so that you spend time wondering exactly what position Burke held,
and holds. It is revealed, as is the history of Lamm's involvement
with events that have sparked the protests and reactions, but it does
come slowly. It's also got elements of science fiction film, an
alternate history story, in which little references to events that
remain unexplained take on signficance, and it's interesting to
consider those flashback sections, and their style, in reference to
sf film, which makes a certain amount of sense given Chappelle's background in sf and horror (including the TV series The Fringe--he also directed episodes of The Wire).
Once things start to
be revealed, the pace picks up, and as you might expect the story
turns into a thriller of sorts, with protagonists on the run, the
government closing in on them, and an ending full of twists. It works
exceptionally well: the payoff final 15 minutes put what has come
before into context, and if we have been concentrated too much on
Lamm's seclusion and loneliness, the personal story now makes
chilling sense. The ending contains a couple of surprises, though one
is telegraphed, and the final one is almost a cliché of conspiracy
thrillers. But it leaves you contemplating the slow-build up that
preceded it, and rather than exciting, you realise you have just seen
a thoughtful film.
Of course the movie
is built around Libby, and Tika Sumpter's playing is almost
strong enough to carry it off. She seems to have internalised the
character's withdrawal, and perhaps overplays her underplaying, if
that makes sense, but especially in the scenes with her father
(Clarke Peters) a newspaper editor whose career appears to have been
stymied by her actions, she shines. Ben Tavassoli as her stalker is
full of smouldering intensity, without any moderating control, which
makes an almost comical contrast with his 'sensitive' gay roommate
Jordan (Alex Weisman). There's also a nice little cameo
scene-stealing by David Eigenberg as a drunken professor who calls
out Lamm at a cocktail party.
But the real star is
Jamie Lee Curtis as Burke. And at this point a few small spoilers
will introduce themselves into the review, so stop if that would bother you.
We
don't know Burke's position in the flashbacks—but it turns out to be
Vice President, to a President (Rex Linn) who was a college football
coach, who for example has no idea where Homs is when
they are discussing Syria.
She is obviously the adult in that room. Before we learn she's the
VP, I was measuring how close to Hillary Clinton her performance was,
perhaps she is indeed Secretary of State, but of course the
administration, prima face, is Republican. Nevertheless, I think
Curtis gets a good bit of the Clintonian dichotomy of care and
ruthlessness which made her such a divisive candidate. But the
presence of the good ol' boy president means we could think of Lamm
as a Condoleeza Rice characater, or indeed, in the way her
intelligence is, in the end, used, and the way in which she lets
herself be compromised, also a Colin Powell. It might be a mistake to read too many direct parallels into the story, but even the suggestion is enough to make it resonate with the present day.
In
the movie's real time, Burke is now the President, and the Clinton
paradigm is even more telling, and
here we see her Chief of Staff, Adrian, who was once Lamm's lover and
now has risen with his boss, as a key. He's played with the kind of
menace that defines such characters and Jeff Hephner does a good job
with it. In one of the film's last twists, it mixes character with
conspiracy, personal and political chillingly well.
An
Acceptable Loss, like its title, is ambiguous (its original title,
The Pages, was much less effective) and refers to many losses.
Although many will find the opening sections too slow, or the final
act too short, or not chasey enough, in the end those ambiguities
stay with the viewer long after the film finishes, and to be thinking
about them means it has been successful.
An
Acceptable Loss is available on Digital Download from 15 July
Note:
This review will also appear at Crime Time (www.cimetime.co.uk)
