For the past couple of days, I've been trying to find the exact words to describe how, well, OK "The Ghost Writer" is to people. After I explained my thoughts on the movie to a film-critic friend, he said, "Well, that doesn't sound very favorable."
Since this is a Roman Polanski film, you almost have to be well-versed in Polanski movies to derive simple pleasure from its simple pleasures. (I'm well-versed, but since I haven't seen a Polanski movie in so long, I've almost forgotten what the man is capable of as a filmmaker.) And considering that he is mostly known for that other thing rather than his movies, the average moviegoer may not be enthused about seeing a movie from him, let alone a two-hour-and-some-change flick where a political conspiracy is unraveled very, very quietly. (Not since the silently intense "The Parallax View" have I had to lean in more times just to hear what's happening.)
"Ghost" has Ewan McGregor as a successful celebrity ghost writer (billed as The Ghost) who steps in to write the memoirs of recently unseated British Prime Minister Adam Lang (Pierce Brosnan), after his last writer was found washed up ashore. He flies to the United States to tail the charismatic ex-PM, who has taken refuge in Martha's Vineyard with his scornful wife (a bitter Olivia Williams) and his assistant/possible mistess (Kim Cattrall).
Our Ghost soon finds himself way over his head when Lang gets accused of war crimes by former constituents, who want him to be tried in The Hague for colluding in the kidnapping of four Pakistani terrorists who were delivered to the CIA for torture. As that drama unfolds, Ghost tries to figure out what happened to his predecessor. Did he get too close to the truth about Lang, making his accidental drowning not so accidental? As the Ghost begins to take the same route for answers the last guy took, the black cars start following him.
As I said, "Ghost" is more quiet when it comes to its sinister goings-on. When the Ghost meets up with a shady professor (Tom Wilkinson, of course) and interrogates him on what he knows, it's handled with such surprising politeness, it may catch people, who usually expects such a scene to be played with aggression and shouting, off-guard.
While the story (adapted from a novel by co-writer Robert Harris) is obviously taking jabs at Tony Blair and his almost absurd allegiance to our last administration, it seems that Polanski could care less about that. "Ghost" appears to be less concerned with solving a mystery and more about creating an atmosphere. Setting the movie in the rainy, gray beaches of the Vineyard (the movie was shot mostly in Berlin - remember, Polanski can't film a movie in the U.S. because of, you know) certainly gives the movie a scenically metaphorical kick. When you watch, you feel a storm is about to brew - figuratively and literally - at any moment.
Since it's been years since Polanski directed a movie like this, where a cocky-but-naive protagonist goes into a mysterious situation looking for answers that could have him paying dire consequences, he fully indulges in serving up the kind of moody, stylish filmmaking that made him an auteur in the first place. The movie's gotcha ending almost serves as Polanski's in-joke to the unsuspecting audience. It's like he's saying, "Hey, whaddya expect? I'm the guy who directed 'Chinatown'! Get with the program!"
"The Ghost Writer" may not be your idea of a thriller. But it's definitely his.
