A
film review by Craig
J. Koban August
11, 2022
THE
FORGIVEN
2022, Unrated, 117 mins.
Ralph Fiennes as David Henninger / Jessica Chastain as Jo Henninger / Matt Smith as Richard Galloway / Caleb Landry Jones as Dally Margolis / Abbey Lee as Cody / Christopher Abbott as Tom Day / Marie-Josée Croze as Isabelle / Alex Jennings as Lord Swanthorne / Saïd Taghmaoui as Anouar / David McSavage as William Joyce
Written and directed by John Michael McDonagh, based on the novel by Lawrence Osborne
THE FORGIVEN
contains a relatively intriguing premise in chronicling the worst aspects
of white privilege and the racial and economic divide between the haves
and the have nots. Writer/director
John Michael McDonagh (brother to Martin, who, in turn, has made some of
the best films of their respective years in IN
BRUGES and THREE
BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI) bases his drama on the 2012
Lawrence Osborne novel of the same name that concerns a snotty, filthy
rich, but unhealthily married couple that accidentally kills a kid on a
desolate Moroccan road while en route to a lavish party being put on by
some of their friends. He establishes these characters - initially at least - as
pretty toxically dislikeable for the manner that they use their wealth and
class to stick their noses up and just about anyone around them that
hasn't attained an elitist status, but then the film segues into a tale of
the guilty husband being forced to find ways to atone for his sins for the
road accident in question. As
a tale of remorse and finding unorthodox paths towards absolution, THE
FORGIVEN is well acted and fairly involving, even though it sometimes
fails to be as proactive minded about its themes.
Taking place largely over a highly problematic weekend in the High Atlas Mountains of Morocco, the story introduces us to David and Jo (played respectively by the always assured Ralph Fiennes and Jessica Chastain), a married couple that definitely have seen better days as husband and wife. They seemingly have it all when it comes to money and all of the accoutrements entailed within, but the fire and passion of their relationship has all but fizzled. They've traveled all the way from London to Morocco to visit an old friend of theirs in Richard (a razor sharp Matt Smith), who's in the process of renovating his massive villa several hours outside of Tangier with his American partner Dally (an equally terrific Caleb Landry Jones, who previously gave one of the best performances of the year in NITRAM), who spends a majority of the film in a drunken state of hedonistic excess. Even though David and Jo are ecstatic to check out David's lavish pad out in the middle of the desert, David's rampant alcoholism and perpetually crusty manner puts him emotional at odds with his wife at every waking moment together.
Things don't go
completely as planned for this heading-towards-divorce couple when - on
one tragic night - their car strikes the body of a local boy, tragically
killing him in the process. Although
shaken up, David sees this more as a frustrating blip on what should have
been a pleasurable weekend, and when he does sit down with law enforcement
to explain his side of things he's essentially believed and let off with
just a mild slap on the wrist (we get hints here that David may or may not
be telling the whole truth about the incident to the police, but since
he's a slick minded negotiator they rule it as an "accidental
death"). His freedom
from persecution is a short one, though, as the dead boy's father Abdellah
(Ismael Kanater) shows up at the villa to not only claim his son's body,
but to also demand that (a) David returns with them to his village to help
with the funeral and (b) face whatever unknown punishment that Abdellah
has in store. David
begrudgingly agrees, thinking that this father just needs a payoff of some
kind, and they are joined by an interpreter (Said Taghmaoui) on the
journey while Jo remains back at David's villa to party it up and get cozy
with another guest in Tom (Christopher Abbott).
David remains relatively calm and collected during the early stages
of his time with Abdellah, even though - in the back of his mind - he
becomes growingly suspicious that his life might be in danger.
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McDonagh has more
than a few things creatively at play here, one of which is the film's
opening credits, which actually comes in the form of end credits that flow
backwards through the crew as the film opens (definitely something that
you don't see much of these days). I'm
sure that this was done to accentuate the off balance nature of the story
and the curveballs it throws at viewers, especially for the way that it
goes from being about this disgustingly decadent party for these crazy
rich white egomaniacs and into the more compelling tale of David
navigating through the hellish accident and coming to terms with taking
some form of personal responsibility for it. Most of THE FORGIVEN flips back and forth between these two
main subplots: The one involving the incessant partying back at the villa
and the other involving David basically being held captive by Abdellah and
being forced to witness his unique grieving process.
What's interesting here is that we get a textbook alcoholic in
David that's coerced into sobriety on his trip with Abdellah as to not
upset him any further while the former's wife partakes in the whirlwind of
booze and drugs that are feely available back at David's estate, which
numbs whatever pain she was experiencing over the road accident (and her
loveless marriage to David). While
Jo overindulges and throws caution to the wind, David is required to
follow Abdellah on his very personal and emotionally horrific journey that
just might lead to some level of comeuppance coming his way, which gives
the film a nail-biting tension at times.
David is established as such a sniveling SOB as THE FORGIVEN opens
that it's really quite remarkable that McDonagh plots a fairly believable
arc of discovery for him to begin to understand the error of his ways.
David doesn't simplistically go from heel to hero, mind you, but
his transformation to a state of enlightenment is authentically relayed
here.
Still, McDonagh
populates his film with so many easily despicable people that it becomes
hard to sit through them enjoying their weekend of debauchery while the
local labor is forced to endure them and facilitate all of their most
petty needs. All of these
partiers are so tasteless in their affluent eccentricities and so bloody
self-absorbed that it's a miracle that David's path towards processing
guilt, understanding what he did, and then asking for some form of
forgiveness doesn't come off as woefully contrived and hard to swallow.
I also think that McDonagh only superficially captures the ideas of
the shallowness of his rich characters juxtaposed over a foreign landscape
and surrounded by people living in abject poverty.
THE FORGIVEN has many ugly hearted people doing unsavory things
throughout and all while clinging to their repellent superiority
complexes, but what is McDonagh really trying to say about wealthy
westerners exploiting the Middle East and their people for everything
they're worth? Most of the
characters don't view any of the locals with any respect, not to mention
that when it comes to honoring their customs and traditions just one
character does so because he's basically given no choice but to face them
head-on. This is not to say
that McDonagh paints his vapid partiers with endless streams of cash and
free time as one-note racist villains, but I could have done with a bit
more fleshing out of these people to make them more compellingly realized
scoundrels with dark hearts.
