Review: The Ghost Writer

"Boy that was a forgiving mother," my coworker explained.

Our discussion, for some reason, had led to my writings and she had inquired about at what age I had started being an author. I pointed out that I had abhorred a blank page and would sometimes create tales for no purpose whatsoever. The conversation verred this way and that, and at this point, I had elaborated on a moment in high school. I still hadn't mastered typing, so I had my mother transpose one of my handwritten tales for my English class.

The story was that of a murder. I had written a short story about a painting in a wealthy man's home where people would stare at it, go home and then multilate themselves graphically.

My coworker and mother were wondering why me, a person who really strives to find connections with the personalities around him; a man for whom the term "Poopiehead" is a frequent jibe---could write about a man who cuts off his own cheek and eats it.

I bring this up in lieu of my recent viewing Roman Polanski's thriller "The Ghost Writer." In the vein of the best of Hitchcock movies, the film is all about the plot and how it unfolds. The characters are as 3-D as a mystery can let them be. The fact is, in these kinds of delicious horrors, the characters are required to behave in a certain way--and that way means they have ability to be a cold blooded murder. Even the most likeable character in any of these stories must have the motivation to bite off a bat's head.

So when it comes to reviewing these movies, there's really one thing to write about. How well the film makers take the well worn path and stretch, stretch, stretch the tale so that we're belted to our seats until the very end. Everything else we sense, to some extent beforehand. We know something wrong with this person; we know that person is messed up already. But the fact is, who well is it handled.

Don't get me wrong, this is a good movie. Not excellent. Not bad either. What makes it not bad, is the filmmaker is taking a risk here. There's not the quick editing required for the MTV audience. There's the pressure of, at least, presenting these characters in a light that...even though they can kill a person, they must be likeable so that we care should they die unexpectedly. Kids today, they want movies with blood and zero complication. It's the reason there's been 3 Final Destinations but a decent flick like this released in the no-man's land of April.

Hitchcock would be proud. All the elements are there.

Polanski is an excellent filmmaker. His personal angst has led him and us to the ability to really pile-driver the pressure of a given situation. He also gives us a protagonist who is like myself. He knows better, and it shows. He's intelligent and he gets it. But he still goes forward with his writing.

But in the end, we're left cold with zero reward for swimming through the tension of the scenes. I felt that the energy lagged in the third act and, like a solider in a prolonged war, we're left just as wary. What is it with Europeans and their non-clipped storylines?

So you're looking at a movie that's half way decent and actually worth the price at the theatres, but ultimately, not creepy enough to ponder again when you get home.

Sure, there are themes in this movie about our sneaky government and how it throws wars for it's own gains; but really, with the insurance bill being arugred with daily on the news, Americans have already learned about this evil in spades. So the timing is off, way off.