Gordon Timpen, SMPSP/Egoli & Tossel/Tutor Film Ltd
British television director Alice Troughton makes the leap to the big screen with The Lesson, a tense drama steeped in the obsessive nature of writers and writing, but one that also touches on the bizarre lengths to which some might go to achieve or keep fame.
Someplace in England, a young writer named Liam (Daryl McCormack; Good Luck to You, Leo Grande) takes on a tutoring position for the son of a massively famous author (veteran character actor Richard E. Grant; Gosford Park) and his wife (a cold and stoic Julie Delpy). Something terrible happened at the family estate where Liam finds himself working, only he might have worse things bubbling within him in his quest to not only meet his hero, but to also complete and sell his own in-progress novel.
Grant’s famous author, meanwhile, attempts to complete his latest tome while navigating the pressures of the written word. Writing, if you didn’t know, is incredibly difficult; book fans, too, have proven impatient when waiting for their favorite’s next opus. What, The Lesson ponders, is the point to any of it? What makes a good writer in the first place? “Good writers borrow,” says Grant’s character. “Great writers steal.”
Eventually, young Liam becomes embroiled in family politics, though he might be in love with drama and uses heartache to advance his own schemes. The Lesson moves slowly and methodically by carefully dropping expositional breadcrumbs and hints, but rather than falling victim to the sometimes glacial pace of British drama, its mounting sense of dread leads to an ultimately small yet explosive showdown. At its core, the twist, as it were, examines the ego-driven responses to the vulnerable nature of creation and the heartless academia that permeates the arts. All the while, the oppressive nature of British decorum drives icy exchanges and hurtful rhetoric—stiff upper lip and all that, old chap, even as your family is grinding down to dust.
McCormack proves more than worthy of his legendary co-stars Grant and Delpy, though the latter finds the most well-rounded truths for her character and, thus, the most magnetic performance. Troughton makes constant use of mirrored imagery: reflections in water and windows and so forth to show the duality of outer politeness, inner monologue. Grant’s maniacal and reputation-obsessed author looms large, meanwhile, even if his ideas of control are so misplaced he can’t see what his own family thinks of him. Maybe he doesn’t care, at least not when compared to the adoring public. The Lesson then stings repeatedly in its ever-accelerating journey to conclusion. In the end, though the events are intense, they feel small and pointless in the most gutting way.
Why would anyone ever become a writer? Perhaps the same reason anyone ever does anything—to be loved, even if it’s only by so many strangers.
8
+Smart performances; painful but riveting
-Opening act lags
The Lesson
Directed by Troughton
With McCormack, Grant and Delpy
Violet Crown, R, 103 min.
