by Eric Blume
It’s kind of surprising how good Denial isn’t. The new film is about a Holocaust historian (Rachel Weisz) who has libel charges thrown against her by a racist Holocaust denier (Timothy Spall). The basic story is absorbing and filled with potentially interesting ideas but it's executed in the most perfunctory manner. It’s as if the actors, director, and crew showed up every morning and said, “okay we know the scene we need to shoot today -- maybe let’s try cameras here and turn on some of these lights we have sitting around. Let’s do this!”.
Director Mick Jackson has previously won an Emmy for the lovely Temple Grandin for HBO, and previously made L.A. Story and Live from Baghdad; he's not without talent. But Denial proves shapeless, not only in the shot construction, but all of the beats, and even in our feelings towards the main character. We’re kept at a visual and emotional distance from Weisz’s Deborah Lipstadt. This is not unlike what happened with Jack O’Connell’s character and performance in Angelina Jolie’s Unbroken: the protagonist is front and center but doesn't do anything -- things are done to them...
The film is not unaware of this exactly. There's even a running joke of sorts that Deborah cannot speak throughout her own trial. While you can see the effort from writer David Hare and Rachel Weisz in portraying a woman who is super-aggressive, difficult, and funny but Jackson gives these traits no focus. Deborah is more cypher and plot device than character.
It’s been wonderful having Weisz back but in many of her recent efforts (Youth, The Light Between Oceans, Denial), she just isn’t fully landing. She’s close, and you’re reminded of that natural intelligence and elegant mystery she carries better than many actors, but she’s just not fully there. The exception was The Lobster in which Yorgos Lanthimos latched onto her detached weirdness to funny effect. But even then, didn't you want just a little more from her?
Denial’s strongest element is the writing of the antagonist played by Timothy Spall. How does this sound for familiar and topical: a racist, sexist megalomaniac believes whatever he says is truth, and cannot fathom how others are offended by the disgusting things he says. Yes, the release of this film dovetailing at the height of Trump Fever lends an uncanny power to the movie (albeit a coincidental timing power). The parallels between Trump and this man, who truly believes his own hateful truth as absolute, creep into the film and give it a feverish political relevance.
Alas, it’s all buried in a sadly flat underlit film that is dated in terms of storytelling, visuals, and design. Two decades ago with TV-movie sstandards of that day, this would feel engrossing, but we’ve come to expect more and Denial simply doesn’t deliver.
