Mentiras inocentes

The cinematography of this film was brilliant, choice of location plus the genius of the camera work kept me enthralled with a shallow and convoluted plot that took red herring to waters it had never been to before. The little hamlet and eccentric interiors made an impossible film watchable, enjoyable even. The premise of the plot was the suicide or murder concept of the hero regarding the best friend and introduced in the first scenes. The rest of the movie was interwoven and seemingly totally disconnected scenes of incest or gratuitous pants dropping or bums in the buff. There were some of the scenes that served no purpose other than to expose an actor's body to the camera or tight shots of Adrian Dunbar's nose. It was as if the editors tossed the dailies up in the air and pasted them together quickly based on aesthetics rather than plot advancement. I think there was a plot at one time in the manuscript but it was discarded and the film became a series of patchwork scenes lacking cohesion. I was glad it was over though it was not easy to tell when that was going to happen because it could have been anywhere along the line. It was not a great film, a dozen yrs old and so aggravating it inspired me to take more time on it and write a 'review' on a pretty bad movie.

Stephen Dorff, being characteristically creepy in a suspicious way. A forceful, severe matriarch. Prominent sound effects and a taut, somber original score emphasizing strings. Dark, moody lighting, and crisp cinematography that seems dulled to accentuate shadow. Gabrielle Anwar, directed to at once be beautiful and alluring and also appear helpless and frightened. Whispers, soft voices; dynamic camerawork; cuts to disparate scenes of no readily apparent connection, and without immediate explanation of any, to highlight a sense of detachment, isolation, and foreboding. These are elements that are employed in 'Innocent lies' to inculcate an air of tension and suspense. It's useful for the film to do so because while there's definite mystery about the title - sufficiently strong that even without knowing it beforehand, I recognized a feeling that it was adapted from a book, and one by Agatha Christie at that - its construction doesn't necessarily supply an atmosphere of tension and suspense on its own. In fact, the described added flourishes and the writing and direction at large frankly seem to oppose one another. This movie has problems.

Even the youngest members of the cast generally perform admirably with the material they are given, serving up acting with strong nuance where they can. From a technical standpoint this is well made, and I admire the contributions of the crew behind the scenes. The production design is fetching, and the costume design, and hair and makeup work. These are no substitute, however, for writing and direction that nonetheless makes every scene, line of dialogue, and too much of every performance feel disconnected and less than earnestly meaningful. We rather seem to get a portrait in miniature, one piece at a time, of how director Patrick Dewolf and his collaborators imagines it all should look in a mystery, thriller, drama, and/or film noir - only, the detachment and isolation that is added into the picture kind of extends to each constituent part. 'Innocent lies' is a theoretical patchwork quilt that is very carefully arranged, save for that the stitches between distinct patches are hopelessly loose, and still so thick and heavy that they overshadow what they're supposed to be holding together.

It's so very odd. All the components are here for what should be a rich, engaging, compelling movie, including subtle airs of psychological drama. I can tell how much effort went into it. By some weird set of circumstances I can't fully describe, however, the whole is notably less than the sum of its parts. There's what a movie could or should be, and then there's what it is or the impression it makes - unwieldy, unconvincing, perhaps even contrived. I don't absolutely dislike 'Innocent lies,' and even with nasty themes on the edges including incest and fascism (content warning, folks) it's a narrative that has significant potential. That potential simply isn't borne out.

I expect and hope that there are viewers who watch this and get more out of it than I do. I just think it's too messy and underwhelming to particularly inspire. There are worse films you could watch, but with so many better ones out there, too, there's no overwhelming reason why 'Innocent lies' deserves your time over another.

....as Visconti showed it in a work such as "la cadeti dei degli" (1969) demands much more than "Innocent lies" 's director can do.Outside the brother and the sister ,and the cop (who is humming twice bribes of the old Irish tune "Carrickfergus" ;the connection with the movie escapes me,I am afraid),the other characters are only silhouettes and you have a feeling that some essential scenes are lacking ,for this a relatively short movie all the same (barely 90 min).Some subplots ,such as the first cop's investigation and suicide are only skimmed over.Ditto for the Jewish wife's scene.As for the incestuous sister's unfortunate fiancé ,he has two or three lines to say and that's it.

The users were harsh when they rated the movie and I can sadly find little fault with that.

I tend to like movies like this one- quiet, destined to be seen on TV late at night after some red wine to quench insomnia. Yeah... some called it a bore, but so was Mansfield Park...to an extent. it's been quite a while since I have seen it and the details are a bit fuzzy, but if a movie of its rank made it in the realm of my daily wanderings, then it has to have at least one quality. Maybe I liked the setting,the cold morning air-the blue air that conveys darkness and mystery to most Poirot series or the landscapist pov it offered at times just to be changed with the eye of a mute detective at others. I almost liked those, but not quite. Being very fond of art, this movie reminded me of Tamara de Lempicka's paintings: very art deco, showing us more than just a glimpse of the 30s aristocracy, very daring without excelling in creativity. just that. the ending was unsurprising,not really a letdown but the deranged late 30s atmosphere, the uncontrollable animalism depicted in different character liaisons saved it.

Is it a war movie? Is it film noir? Is it cheap titillation? A deep exploration of complex and controversial relationships? This film cannot decide what it is and so, as another person noted, must require several viewings in order to make sense. Sadly, it is just not compelling enough to warrant multiple viewings - unlike other films that ARE rich with complex themes and artistic vision.

The actors valiantly try to overcome the morass that is the script - but were probably as annoyed as the rest of us at the myriad loose threads that never tie up.

Adrian Dunbar portrays the frustration of someone tempted and confused by things around him - he must be the avatar for the viewer. Stephen Dorff offers another workmanlike portrayal of your friendly neighborhood rebel without a clue. Gabrielle Anwar, who is usually a fine actor, is stuck with a character whose neuroses become tedious and irritating by the end of the film. Joanna Lumley escapes caricature by a false eyelash and looks luminous in the period fashions. The rest of the cast are superfluous at best and annoying distractions at worst, doing nothing to advance the story. They and the plot lines that involve them do not even qualify as decent red herrings.

The cinematography is lovely - very atmospheric and evocative of the era - as are the costumes and staging.

Unfortunately, Dewolf's grasp at Art exceeded his reach and no amount of plot devices can make this murky movie anything more than a mild diversion. Perhaps the fault lies with the editing - which would explain the subplots that disappear and other senseless oddities. A tighter script, a focused plot, and less cheap titillation would have permitted this talented cast to fully engage the viewer in a riveting mystery flick.