Criticism of ‘The Forgiven’: posh party

“It promises to be interesting,” comments the character of Ralph Fiennes at the beginning of ‘The Forgiven’. “In a good way or a bad way?” answers the role of Jessica Chastain. Both are an ill-matched marriage, with a certain polluted aristocratic air, on their way to a posh party in the desert. His personal problems are breathed from the first minute. They travel from London to Morocco to pour gasoline on a relationship that is irretrievably faltering. Perhaps the fuel ends up causing a fire and the tank explodes. He is an alcoholic doctor, facing malpractice claims. She, an unsuccessful children’s story writer, is tired of waiting for what she will never get. She accompanies her partner, a subject full of prejudices, anesthetized by cynicism. Before reaching his destination at the wheel, a tragedy occurs on the road that marks the playful journey. An accident disrupts the vital moment of the bourgeois protagonists, who must inevitably review their stocks. As a backdrop, the clash between the cultures of East and West.

‘The Forgiven’, based on the novel by Lawrence Osborne, begins with the credits of the entire team that participated in the film, as in the classics of yesteryear. It places the viewer in a desert landscape where heat is present at all times, in the atmosphere and in the sensuality shown by some characters. Behind this estimable adaptation is John Michael McDonagh, a filmmaker of interest who has had a hard time raising his latest proposal after signing titles of undoubted packaging such as ‘The Irishman’ or ‘Calvary’, both starring Brendan Gleeson. It highlights, from the outset, a remarkable cast, adorned with the collaborations of Matt Smith, Caleb Landry Jones, Christopher Abbott (‘Possessor’) and Abbey Lee Kershaw (‘The Neon Demon’). They defend good, sharp dialogues, which can knock out the unaccustomed viewer. The characters, trapped in themselves -white people with pasta wanting to get up to their eyebrows in an exotic place to forget everything-, can be burdensome, perfectly slapping, depending on the praiseworthy, and risky, decision of the director. Premiered at the Toronto Film Festival, it proposes a story that becomes perverted as it picks up speed. It begins to walk with a better rhythm than at the end of the walk, breaks some stereotypes, avoids excessive complexities and promptly soaks the drama with touches of black humor that facilitate digestion. In the journey, it can be understood as a strange thriller where issues such as privilege, classism, pride, toxic love or cultural and religious confrontation are explored.