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Roman Polanski brilliantly displayed his cynical view of the world in "Chinatown," the 1974 classic film of depravity hiding in the shadows of sunny, "innocent" 1930s Los Angeles. Robert Towne wrote the intelligent and heartless story.
So, it's easy to see what attracted Mr. Polanski to British writer Robert Harris' 2007 political suspense novel, "The Ghost" -- apathetic mercenary drawn into a cesspool of betrayal, double cross, damsel in distress and deception.
This time the backdrop is contemporary, the previous decade of Great Britain's cooperation with the Bush administration in the war on terrorism. (Hint: In the film, the U.S. secretary of state is played by a black woman.)
However, Mr. Harris, who collaborated with the director on the screenplay isn't Mr. Towne. He brings a well-upholstered smugness to a story instead of Mr. Towne's merciless hard edge. A corrupt government seems less threatening when sitting in a comfy chair.
The gun-for-hire here is not a private eye, but a ghostwriter signed on when the body of the first author of former British prime minister Adam Lang's memoirs washes up on a Martha's Vineyard beach.
- Starring: Ewan McGregor (above), Pierce Brosnan, Olivia Williams.
- Rating: PG-13 for language, brief nudity, some violence and a drug reference.
- Web site: www.theghostwriter-movie.com/
Ewan McGregor plays him cleverly as a facile phrasemaker with little personality of his own to filter the "voice" of Pierce Brosnan as the ousted PM.
Now with a face suitably weathered after his James Bond impersonation, Mr. Brosnan reminds us of an English Ronald Reagan with his luxuriant hair and pearly white teeth. His character has also been an actor before entering politics, just in case we missed the similarities.
The real hero, though, is the flabby, fawning manuscript turned in by the Ghost's predecessor. Mr. McEwan's character never has a name, just to emphasize his impersonality, but it's tough to stay neutral when the nude Mrs. Lang, a haggard Olivia Williams, makes herself at home in your bed.
Teams of mysterious men want this fat pile of papers despite its blandness, and it shouldn't be too hard to snatch with the skinny, heavy-drinking Ghost as its guardian. Yet he manages to lug the thing around with him throughout the entire picture, although we are shown that it's also on a flash drive.
As the plot grows shakier and shakier, director Polanski ramps up his famed "atmospherics" to hold our interest, including perpetual rain outside and gloomy under-lit spaces inside. There's not a 100-watt bulb anywhere.
In an homage of sorts to "Chinatown," an Asian gardener with a heavy accent does his best to keep the grounds tidy despite torrential winds and rain
All suspense stories need a MacGuffin and here it's a GPS. All modern films need product placement and here's it's a BMW with a GPS that sends the Ghost on his journey of discovery. Talk about being led around by the nose.
An uneven cast of supporting actors from the always competent Tom Wilkinson to the hapless Kim Cattrall do little more than push the untidy script forward. Almost unrecognizable is Eli Wallach in a cameo loaded with "portent," another "Chinatown" moment like the Chicano boy on the pony in the L.A. River bed.
"The Ghost Writer" was a widely anticipated film and there are stretches of talented movie-making. And there are stretches of, well, just stretches.
At nearly just over two hours, the film's as flabby as its faux memoirs and even at that, the climax seems almost an afterthought.
Forget it, Jake, it ain't "Chinatown."
Opens at the Manor and Cinemark Robinson theaters.
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