The Ghost Writer (2010)

A very conventional political thriller, well done, smartly paced, but a bit drab or slow at times, too.

And familiar.

So you go into this kind of movie looking for what distinguishes it, like the understated performance by Ewan McGregor. And the really gorgeous setting, which looks so much like either Martha's Vineyard or Nantucket you'd swear it was. But in fact the utterly incredible house was built for the movie on a sandy island in northern Germany called Sylt. Most of the movie, in fact, was shot in Germany, including Berlin (which was meant to be London), for the simple reason that the director, admitted sex offender Roman Polanski, couldn't travel to the U.S. without being arrested. There are a few driving scenes and scenic inserts that were filmed on Cape Cod (in the U.S.) without Polanski's presence.

It's interesting that Polanski wanted to make a film that had to be set here even though it made things difficult. Doubly so because his protagonists are all British, making weakly disguised references to Tony Blair (Pierce Brosnan doing a routine job--he really can't act worth beans if an actual emotion is required) and his wife (Olivia Williams, who is absolutely terrific, award material).

Which brings us back to McGregor, playing a ghost writer for the ex-prime minister's memoirs. He's really terrific at playing someone with savvy but also naiveté. He's smart but at first so trusting he gets into what is obviously a dubious job, his predecessor having just been killed. But we are lulled, too, until events internationally unravel the situation and he discovers some inside information. Of course, this puts him in more danger, and us in more suspense.

It's good, very good, but we have been here before. The details are different, but the intrigue is the same. Yes, we know about this shadow government where people are manipulated and assassinated while the news coverage is rose and contrived. Yes, we have seen the detemined innocent set out to prove the truth. Even the direct facts, that this young writer is going to rewrite his predecessor's apparently finished memoir, and then begins with the most basic interviews of the subject, don't shape up.

You'd never know this was directed by Polanski. Or would you? If you look at his earliest films you'll find some edgy, almost cruel quality ("Repulsion") but if you see "Chinatown" you'll actually have a parallel to this one--a well made film in a conventional container (that one has an amazing Jack Nicholson to lift it up). There is of course "Rosemary's Baby," which was lifted by a really creepy story. For "The Ghost Writer," Polanski's last film, you keep thinking there will be a real twist, something large and bizarre or just chilling, but it doesn't really happen. In fact, when the memoir gets published it's all a bit anti-climactic.

And so, the final ten minutes, at a party, feels like a desperate attempt of the writer, and director, to make all this effort more than just another polished intrigue. At the last minute, a highly improbable final discovery occurs, followed by an even more improbable and shocking last ten seconds. Surprised, we sort of say, okay, I get it, and that's that. Not exactly the reaction you'd want to have after a decent two hours preparing.

I say no more except that the final seconds are also an homage to Stanley Kubrick's "The Killing." You'll see. Nice touch.

The Ghost is the story of a ghost writer who wins an assignment to tidy up the memoirs of a recently ex British Prime Minister to turn them into a best seller. It's set in the United States, and revolves around unproven accusations of allowing suspected terrorists to be extradited and tortured. The previous ghost writer has been found dead.

I found this a tense thriller with the added attraction of that pointed economy of execution for which Europeanised Hollywood (of which Polanski must be one of the leading exponents) is famed. As was often the case with Hitchcock, the story, camera framing, and a sense of mounting anticipation, produce more suspense than any amount of car chases, expensive stunts, intrusive music or grandstanding of stars.

Polanski's choice of stars is interesting, particularly as the two lead parts Pierce Brosnan (as former Prime Minister, Adam Lang) and Ewan McGregor (as the ghost) are known more for their 'star-appeal' performances than any detailed character acting. Yet they are perfectly cast, both for their on screen personas and for the space given them to develop. When Brosnan comes alive in sudden fits of rage (almost recalling Frank Langella in Frost/Nixon) we become more aware of his considerable strength as an actor, allowing the character – deliberately something of a stereotype – to shine through. The ploy is somewhat less successful though with Kim Cattrall, who seems forever in her Sex and the City persona. or Tom Wilkinson, who sadly seems to have just been wheeled in just to read lines from a supporting role. A less recognisable face in the formidable array of stars is Olivia Williams (Miss Stubbs in An Education, and also making a return in the new series of Dollhouse). So when Williams, as Lang's wife Ruth, shows unexpected fire and passion we are taken by surprise – without any of the voyeuristic appeal of watching Ewan McGregor bare his bottom – as he, or his double, does quite readily.

The Ghost can be watched on two levels. Firstly it can be enjoyed as a straightforward thriller of a traditional sort. Aimed at modern audiences, it has plenty of sudden shocks but less twists and turns than, say, Chinatown. Even the ending has been simplified from the original script, which would have given a further meaning to the title and the whole film: but at the risk of being perhaps a little too clever.

But for those who want to draw unsettling comparisons, there is a fairly heavy-handed likeness to accusations about Tony Blair's complicity in what have been termed war crimes. And as Adam Lang, ensconced on an island off the east coast of America, far from the reach of the International Court of Justice (to which America does not subscribe), is pulled deeper into the plot of conspiracy theorists, another reading is easy to find: Polanski's own isolation for alleged crimes committed many years ago. For those that want to follow such parallels, there is a US Secretary of State that looks worrying like Condoleezza Rice. And when Lang refuses an invitation to go to London for fear of arrest, it might possibly recall Polanski's comment, "The last time I went to a festival to get a prize I ended up in jail." The Ghost is a beautifully 'hand-crafted' film, almost belonging to the age of noir, when characters were shadows and revelations exposed with dramatic force rather than loud bangs. Perhaps not as flashy as masterpieces such as Chinatown or Rosemary's Baby, The Ghost is still a welcome addition of quality and sleek design when the market for such dramas is swamped with bad stories and cluttered execution.

Instead of using fast cuts and other modern cinematic gimmicks, Roman Polanski's The Ghost Writer relies on an involving story that deeply immerses us in the experience, a tribute to his immense skill as a director. Based on the novel Ghost written by Robert Harris, the film is about an unnamed author (Ewan McGregor) who is hired to complete the memoirs of former British Minister Adam Lang (Pierce Brosnan) after the previous ghost writer was found dead, his body washed up on a beach in New England.

Although it is a suspense thriller, The Ghost Writer also makes a sharp political statement, creating a main character that very much resembles former British Prime Minister Tony Blair (Harris, himself was a strong supporter of Blair until he broke with him over Britain's participation in the war in Iraq and Blair's subordination to U.S. foreign policy interests). Because Polanski was banned from the U.S. because of an event that occurred 32 years ago, the film was shot in Germany and its depiction of Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts is recreated on the island of Sylt in the North Sea.

Opening as a ferry disembarks suspiciously leaving one car behind, the film establishes a mood of unease and danger from the outset, aided by an atmospheric score by Alexandre Desplat. People talk about the drowning of the previous ghost writer as being either an accident or a suicide yet, like many CIA-assisted suicides, it is suspicious right off the bat (or off the boat) and the new author soon finds himself buried in intrigue when he visits Lang in his security-entrenched compound on the seacoast.

McGregor is a blank slate, an ambitious young man presumably just out to take in a huge paycheck but after reading Lang's autobiography and finding it to be a "cure for insomnia," he is determined to have the former Prime Minister share his life and work in a more authentic manner. The writer is invited to stay in the compound where Lang resides with his very articulate and somewhat bitter wife Ruth (Olivia Williams) who suspects his assistant Amelia (Kim Cattrall) to be his mistress. McGregor's autobiographical work is interrupted when he hears in the news that Lang has been accused of war crimes by a former minister and is being investigated by the World Court.

To appear to be engaging in business as usual, Lang travels to Washington in a private jet owned by a company with a name similar to Halliburton, where he is defended against the accusations by a State Secretary who looks very much like Condoleezza Rice. At home, however, protesters show up on the island together with hordes of press and Ruth has to turn to the author for some physical and mental solace as the plot swoops and dives into unpredictable twists and turns that keeps us off balance until the powerful conclusion.

Heading an outstanding cast, Brosnan delivers a strong performance that strikes the right balance between fear and arrogance and McGregor is also pitch perfect. Winner of a Silver Bear in Berlin for Best Director, The Ghost Writer shows Polanski at the top of his form and in total control of the medium. Even though he had to complete the final editing of his film in a Swiss jail and under house arrest in Switzerland, the fact that it still bears the stamp of his genius is a tribute not only to his art but also to his character.