Producers: John Michael McDonagh, Elizabeth Eves, Trevor Matthews and Nick Gordon Director: John Michael McDonagh Screenplay: John Michael McDonagh Cast: Ralph Fiennes, Jessica Chastain, Matt Smith, Saïd Taghmaoui, Christopher Abbott, Ismael Kanater, Caleb Landry Jones, Mourad Zaoui, Alex Jennings, Abbey Lee, Marie-Josée Croze, Aissam Taamart and Omar Ghazaoui Distributor: Vertical Entertainment
Grade: B
As writer-director of the excellent “Calvary” (2014), John Michael McDonagh is well aware that in the Catholic doctrine of penance, forgiveness for sin also entails punishment, and his adaptation of Lawrence Osborne’s 2012 novel hinges on the question whether that idea also pertains outside the confessional. “The Forgiven” provides a compelling, if rather emotionally remote, answer.
The film is not, however, merely a probing philosophical—or perhaps theological—drama. The central issue is played out in the context of a scabrous satire of white entitlement in the post-colonial world. One can laugh at—and often with—the wealthy bohemians who invade Morocco with their assumptions of privilege, their attitudes of superiority and contempt, and their lust for wanton pleasure even as the bubble in which they live is punctured by a tragedy they dismiss as at best a minor inconvenience.
At least all of the guests at the extravagant party, hosted by flamboyant Richard Galloway (Matt Smith) and his acerbic partner Dally Margolis (Caleb Landry Jones) at their castle-like villa in the desert, do, except for one—David Henninger (Ralph Fiennes), a cynical, bigoted, impulsively rude doctor, who finds himself in unexpected trouble when he kills a local teen, Driss (Omar Ghazaoui). Driss, who was excavating and selling fossils with his friend Ismael (Aissam Taamart) in the vicinity, stepped out in front of Henninger’s car as he was driving with his wife Jo (Jessica Chastain) to the festivities and was hit.
Henninger, whom Jo has already described as a functioning alcoholic (he claims that the first word should cancel out the second—one example of his off-putting manner), has gotten lost in the dark and is speeding while arguing with Jo. He does stop, but hides the boy’s ID and loads the body into the car, assuming that after turning it over to the police at the villa he’ll be done with the matter. Richard, Dally and heir other guests—smooth-talking American financial consultant Tom Day (Christopher Abbott) and libidinous Brit Lord Swanthorne (Alex Jennings), who’s there with a bevy of beauteous young girls including Cody (Abbey Lee)—agree, though French journalist Isabel Péret (Marie-Josée Croze), there to cover the bash, is taken aback, and Richard’s butler Hamid (Mourad Zaoui) is silently appalled, as he and the other local staff also are by the general air of excess and debauchery on constant display.
The air of complacency among the partygoers is buttressed when the police, after a cursory investigation, declare the matter an unhappy accident, but then is shattered when Abdellah Taheri (Ismael Kanater) appears with Anouar (Saïd Taghmaoui), a translator, to claim the body as that of his son. He also demands that, as a matter of honor, David should accompany him back to his distant village to witness the boy’s burial. Henninger’s initially horrified by the suggestion, but is persuaded it would be the best thing to do, despite the obvious dangers.
The rest of the film juxtaposes Henninger’s attitude-altering experiences with the revelry he’s left behind, during which his wife coquettishly gives in to the blandishments of smoothly seductive Day, who’s ready with amusing quips. The sequences back at the villa show that the people there are far more interested in having a good time than they are with what might be happening to David. Nor are they concerned with Abdellah’s grief, even setting off a gargantuan fireworks display just as Driss’ corpse is being loaded into his father’s vehicle—the epitome of an incongruity the script constantly emphasizes.
It’s the pain his conduct has caused that Henninger must confront during his trip to Driss’ home that makes up the greater part of the film. Though Anouar is friendly enough, Abdellah initially refuses to have any personal contact with David, until he is ready to do so at his isolated house, a huge metal square in the middle of nowhere. Gradually David realizes the enormity of what he did and apologizes, but admits to himself that will never be enough. A sense of foreboding fills the air and some surprising revelations occur, until it becomes clear that while Abdellah absolves some, he cannot refrain from demanding recompense from others; but what form will it take?
“The Forgiven” is not a film with a great deal of action—it’s a literary piece heavy with dialogue, much of it drawn from Osborne, which varies from sharply snappish to grimly serious. The performances run the gamut too, with the partying guests basically caricatures of overindulgence and the grizzled Kanbater a powerful image of grief and despair. The remarkable Fiennes veers from the one, in the early portion of the film, when he sneers at everyone with an air of drunken disdain, to the other, as David grows more and more aware of his culpability and the need to make up for what he’s done. It’s an exceptional demonstration of range which, however, never goes too far in either direction, and despite fine work from the rest of the cast it is the heart of the film.
The contrasts the film draws are equally seen in its look, with production designer Willem Smit, costume designer Keith Madden and cinematographer Larry Smith capturing the stark difference between the garish ostentation of the villa and the bleak, dusty environment beyond it. The editing by Elizabeth Eves and Chris Gill and the score by Lorne Balfe contribute to the sense of unease and dislocation, which begins at the very start when what would ordinarily be the closing credits are superimposed over the film’s initial scenes. That sense of emotional extremes is entirely appropriate for a tale that ranges from scathing satire to sensitive human observation in chillingly depicting how a clash of cultures impacts issues of justice and mercy.
Though its style is somewhat cool and distant, “The Forgiven” is an absorbing study of th persistence of a colonial mentality in a supposedly post-colonial world, dominated by a masterful performance from Ralph Fiennes.