Helvi Oosterman

We saw a movie today, over which some critics totally disagree. According to our own Movie Show hosts, Stratton and Pomeranz, it was worth four and half stars, out of five I assume. Yet there are some, mainly American reviewers, who claimed it was the worst movie of the year.

You might have guessed that I’m talking about The Ghost Writer, the latest work of Roman Polanski. It looks almost as if the Americans are not able to separate Polanski’s private life from his work. This French born Polish director of such master pieces as China Town and Rosemary’s Baby is to me a bit like Woody Allen, whose worst movies are often better than some other director’s best.

Some years ago I saw Polanski’s Frantic, which was one of his lesser films, but still miles ahead of most movies of the same genre. Anyone who has made multi award winning movies such as The Pianist, and the Oscar nominated Tess, surely is not even capable of making a total flop.

The Ghost Writer received The International Federation of Film Critic’s prize 2009, but even so I was a little apprehensive about who’s right about this film. There was no need for it; as soon as it started I knew I was going to like it. For obvious reasons it could not have been filmed in America at the Martha’s Vineyard where the Blair-esque former UK Prime Minister lives and where the ghost writer of his memoir is going to write the book.  Instead it’s all done in Europe, in a bleak and grey seaside place in Northern Germany, where PM resides in a square, bunker style house.

The sea is menacing, the film has almost a black and white quality, which adds to its atmosphere. The casting is good, the only one not quite right was Pierce Brosnan as the ex-PM; the accent did not ring true. The others, the English actress Olivia Williams almost stole the show, and the handsome Ewan McGregor might have been a teeny bit too laid-back, but I’m not complaining, the well-known Brit playing the part of Prof Emmett did a stellar job just to mention a few.

A political thriller might not be my first choice of movie viewing, but in Polanski’s masterly hands this one got my attention and kept it for the one and half hours it lasted, not one minute too long for me. It was smart and stylish, somewhat Hitchcockian, and it has a sprinkling of humour, and some spirited swearing thrown in. The film follows the book The Ghost by Robert Harris pretty closely, but the amazing last scene where Polanski strays from it, is the most memorable, and it shows that Roman hasn’t lost his creative touch; quite amazing from a seventy six year old!