The premise, albeit far fetched (to be polite), does bring about deeper questions of art versus honor and places a radical juxtaposition of dilemmas right before us, which thankfully allows the drama to unfold in subtler ways than its heavy concept - ultimately gracing us with an outstanding performance by Jeremy Piven as well as an incredibly well orchestrated film language (even if I could have been without the "subjective camera", which doesn't quite add anything and oftentimes feels forced).
The story is well articulated and its characters fairly rounded (I would have loved deeper development with those around Piven though) and while Robert Carlyle at times stumbles slightly with his accent (in particular certain intonations that give away his Glasgow dialect), I found the relationship and interacting between Piven and Carlyle incredibly enticing.
But... If we accept the notion that this could happen, in its incredible unlikeliness, and we accept the idea that it could go as far as it does (which quite frankly is a stretch that I fear few historians would accept), then the ending is what breaks the camel's back for me.
I just don't believe it. The repercussions of his deceit are just... Unbelievable. And as such it falls flat.
It felt like the film missed a perfect chance to add authenticity to its implausible narrative but by neglecting this opportunity it does, in fact, do the entire story a disservice. Had it only ended like we know it did for most during those times, then it would have been Oscar worthy in my opinion. And yet, now it is so far away from that.
I am very impressed with its overall tone and staging of its actors, not least the captivating dance scenes (which can be incredibly hard to do) - there are so many great things to say, which is why I just so wish it had packed a bigger punch at its conclusion.
Regardless, I would recommend watching it if nothing else for the existential questions it poses.