Separate Lies

Separate Lies presents us with a tantalizing thriller premise and then peaks way too soon, fading away slowly into a maudlin tear-jerker. Writer/director Julian Fellowes had this same problem with his previous screenplay, for the far-better, Robert Altman-helmed Gosford Park. That film opened as a social comedy, following all the romance and intrigue between the aristocratic guests and an English manor house as well as the servants and staff, and wound up contorting somewhat awkwardly into a whodunit.

Altman's mastery of storytelling and his cast of wonderful British actors allowed Gosford Park to overcome this unfortunate lapse and remain a memorable highlight of the director's later period. Separate Lies on the other hand ultimately disappoints, losing its way after a promising First Act.



Like a whole lot of romantic thrillers, Separate Lies focuses on the way smaller, incidental lies snowball into major, life-altering betrayals. Poor clueless James (Tom Wilkinson) thinks he's enjoying a happy, though childless, marriage to Anne (Emily Watson). In truth, she's restless, bored with James and involved in an increasingly passionate love affair with their caddish, bachelor neighbor William (Rupert Everett).

One night, while James works in the city, Anne hosts a small party at their country home. On the road, near the party, a man riding his bicycle is struck by a passing car. He dies. It turns out, he's the husband of Anne and James' maid.

The accident will come to not only reveal the truth about James and Anne's marriage, but will repeatedly test the strength of their marriage and their personal morality. For a while, it appears that the film will develop into a high-level cat-and-mouse type thriller, along the lines of a Chabrol film or Woody Allen's Match Point.

But, alas, no. After a few abortive scenes of suspense, the police investigation into the accident concludes and the movie shifts its attention to James and Anne's disintigrating marriage. It's not that Fellowes doesn't have any insights to share. In particular, he's interested in how James' devotion to Anne has caused her to reject him. They are locked in an endless cycle; the more she pushes him away, the more needy for her affection he becomes.

I think the major problem is just that, after an hour devoted to criminal procedure and shifting alibis and misdirections, Fellowes just can't make us care enough about his characters as people. In the best sections of the film, James and Anne and William work as pawns in an elaborate game. James has lied to the police, and finds himself trapped in that lie, and it's this situation that makes him compelling. Once he's no longer in danger of going to jail, he's just some lonely big city lawyer.