Career con man Roy sets his sights on his latest mark: recently widowed Betty, worth millions. And he means to take it all. But as the two draw closer, what should have been another simple swindle...
The Good Liar offers a predictable tale of deceit from two impeccable performances. Fabrications. It’s primitive human nature to supply deception, unintentionally or knowingly. Whether it is to evoke jealousy on one’s behalf or to simply overemphasise a mundane aspect in one’s life. More often than not, we instinctively lie to each other. For elderly con artist Roy, whom equips false identities to manipulate naive individuals into granting him full access to their financial accounts, duplicity pumped through his veins. No longer aware of who he really is. Substantiating a path that would enable him to forget about his past. One evening, he decides to create an account on an elite online dating service, where he graciously meets former Oxford history professor Betty. After acknowledging her wealthy savings, the game of amiable manipulation commences. However, this target shan’t be as simple as his other dubious endeavours.
Condon’s straightforward adaptation of Searle’s crime novel is, first and foremost, exceedingly enjoyable. A menial thriller that emphasises its disposable nature by avoiding the pitfalls of narrative convolution. With such classy regality and bubbling champagne overflowing from its polished flute, Condon issues a crime thriller of sophistication. Whilst the overwhelmingly obvious deception that the feature’s title alludes to may attempt to illustrate entrapment, it instead explores how the devious actions of past lives can never be disguised through life altering fabrications. History cannot be forgotten. We live, learn and remember the actions of our ancestors to shape our own futures.
Having said that, The Good Liar is shrouded in all too much misguided asinine to have its themes taken seriously. Hatcher’s screenplay absorbs the spillages of luxurious English tea and wrings the flavourings out into a shallow cup. It is nothing more than superfluous entertainment, and that’s primarily due to the clumsy third act that reminds viewers of the grand preposterousness nestled within. No matter how flawless McKellen and Mirren performances were together, and trust me they were exuberantly sensational with their thespian-level of dramatic mastery, they could not deviate from the weighty flashbacks and unconvincing splurges of expositional grandeur that comprised the climactic twist. Unfortunately, due to the way the film issues narrative breadcrumbs and calculative hints, notably from Betty’s angelic susceptibility, a “twist” can be seen from a mile away. Regardless of its intertwining nature, the knowing existence of a plot turn throughout the film’s runtime does lessen its impact dramatically.
Ultimately though, the two committed central performances more than make up for its expendable shortcomings. To simply watch two of the finest British actors bend over backwards to carry this entire thriller, was nothing short of riveting. Even Tovey, whom really holds his own during the Berlin trip, was entrancingly captivating. See, The Good Liar proves that, with the right cast, a mediocre screenplay can be elevated to heights of divinity. It is a throwaway thriller. It is eye-rolling at times. However, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the elegant fun presented onscreen. And trust me, I’m not a good liar...
