The Deep End

THE DEEP END is an original and suspenseful thriller, pitting a mother, played by Tilda Swinton, against a blackmailer, played by Goran Visnjic. It's the relationship between the two that drives this movie, as Visnjic's character begins to change because of the decency and honesty he encounters in Swinton's character. I gave this 8 out of 10 instead of 9 out of 10 because the ending is somewhat predictable, it's like something from a 1930's big Hollywood studio film. Nevertheless, a compelling script and convincing performances from all the actors make this worth seeing.

8/10

Taking care of others often involves self-sacrifice, and mothers of most feather will put themselves in harm's way to shield their young. In the THE DEEP END, a modern retelling of Max Ophuls' 1946 thriller THE RECKLESS MOMENT, Margaret Hall is a mother of three willing to do whatever it takes to keep her family safe from the irrational forces that follow her teenage son home one night from a nightclub of ill repute. But mom, played with stoic intensity by Tilda Swinton, quickly learns that heroism doesn't fit on a calendar already packed with soccer practices, trumpet lessons and visits to the grocery store.

Superficially the story concerns a vicious run of bad luck. Noirish events are set in motion when Margaret tries to cover up the accidental death of her son's unsavory friend (Josh Lucas as a spookily playful predator). The next day a man with a dice tattoo on his neck knocks on her door and demands $50,000 to suppress a videotape linking her son to the death, which police have ruled a homicide. The dramatic heart of the film concerns Margaret's dealings with the blackmailer, cagily played by Goran Visnjic, ER's Slavic heartthrob in a less soapy but perversely related role. Mr. Visnjic is credible though never quite menacing as a predator in awe of, and ultimately vulnerable to, his tender prey.

Taken at this level THE DEEP END, luminously shot in the gambling resort of Lake Tahoe, is an eerie joy ride that leans heavily on coincidence to tangle then unknot its plot. But the presence of Tilda Swinton indicates that more is going on here than melodrama. Ms. Swinton is a brilliant post-feminist actress whose work sheds light on paradoxes of femininity and female power. Her earlier films include ORLANDO, in which she explored androgyny and immortality, and FEMALE PERVERSIONS, a Freudian critique of the feminist myth of "having it all." In THE DEEP END, Ms. Swinton's nuanced performance comments on motherhood as a source of both power and vulnerability. A woman may be willing to do anything for her son, as Margaret Hall clearly is, yet still be constrained by a "glass ceiling" of caregiving attachments that prevent her from achieving man-style success. In cinema, the latter typically means blowing the villains' brains out, something Margaret Hall might consider doing if she weren't so busy taking care of her kids and aging father-in-law.

Throughout the film Margaret tries but is unable to reach her husband, a Navy officer on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the mid-Atlantic. His unavailability is more than an inconvenience. Attempting to negotiate with the blackmailers, Margaret finds herself hamstrung when the bank refuses a critical withdrawal without her husband's say-so. Mr. Hall's conspicuous absence and his infirm father's burdensome presence amplify Margaret's predicament, showing how hollow the conventions of marriage and machismo can be. The fact that both men are soldiers, society's designated heroes, is no accident. They defend motherhood in the abstract while remaining blind to a real mother's needs.

Margaret Hall is Ms. Swinton's most reluctant feminist character to date, a woman whose maternal ferocity the family setting renders moot and who must ultimately rely on the kindness of strangers. Her performance transforms THE DEEP END from a good summer thriller to a dramatic critique of the politics of caregiving.

The enchanting opening score and a dominant blue hue eases its way of a concealed familial drama with a murder case, a blackmail and an in-the-closet gay son. Out of expectation, a lesser impact on the gay culture, the film endeavors a strenuous effort to accent on a desperate mother's instinct of shielding her son, and magnificently the plot concocts a cordial twist to furnish the film with compassion and great gratification.

Tilda Swinton is the ace here (vaguely has sustained her indie-queen ethereality into a more mainstream scope since then), magnifying every impression into an intact personification of a role model mother of three children, who struggles to cover a murder case which she thinks has executed by her elder gay son (which is barely the truth as audience has witnessed the entire occurrence), after that developing a mutual affinity with a young gay blackmailer, things start to become more engrossing. Goran Visnjic is equally empathetic and even a tad overshadowing Ms. Swinton during the final confrontation (a poignant moment arrives when their lips are so close to each other near the end of the film).

It never goes awry with the things-getting-worse-until-the-very-end mode, at first one might sense a pro-WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN (2011) ominous trauma was awaiting us, congenially enough it is not about the embittering mother-son's love/hate perplexity. This indie gem from director duo Scott McGehee & David Siegel (whose later feature BEE SEASON 2005 is a rueful misfire, a 5/10 in my rating, while their latest WHAT MAISIE KNEW starring my diva Julianne Moore is on the shelf this year) needs more credit for its adroit exposition, splendidly heart-rending impetus and the celeste tableau.

It appears that either this movie works for you or doesn't. It worked for me for several reasons, not the least being the great performance by Tilda Swinton as Margaret, an upper-middle-class mother with an obsessive desire to protect her son. Swinton projects the image of a woman who can handle any situation; blackmail, the revelation of her son's sexual orientation, the notion that her son may be a murderer, taking care of her aging father-in-law, and running the family are all in a day's work. I was drawn into the story by the beautiful photography, the captivating music, and the plot twists. For whatever reason I did not dwell on plot holes but simply allowed myself to be absorbed. And, if you accept Margaret's almost pathologically obsessive devotion to her family, then most of what happens hangs together.

I found the unexpected relationship that develops between Margaret and the blackmailer to be interesting. The experience is more transformative for him than for her. I also like the way the tables were turned on the relationship between Margaret and her spoiled son. In the beginning his behavior was confusing to Margaret and he was not willing to talk about it and in the end Margaret's behavior was mysterious to her son and she was not willing to talk about it.

It was only the contrived ending that bothered me.

Who came up with the summary, "spirals out of control"? Margaret, is, if anything, too much in control! One waits throughout the movie for her control to break. Who put her in charge of her son's destiny? Why is she willing, even at the moment she "speaks the truth" in all but this one respect, to specify HERSELF as the one responsible for her son's lover's death? She'll do anything to help him go on to college as a music major, but she won't be able to shield him always from the consequences of his own bad judgment. And perhaps her horrified expression as she watches the video reflects this realization as much as it does her visceral horror at the activity taking place. He is the one who is "spiraling out of control"--HER control. She is trying, presumably at her husband's behest before he shipped out, to make & keep the world safe for her family. But their domestic tranquility is built on a foundation of corruption--that of nearby Reno & its gambling enterprises & related criminal activities. Perhaps at the end when she breaks down & weeps, she is finally letting go of her "sense of control," along with her innocence, which has been compromised much more deeply than that of her son.