Film Review: Screen version of Highsmith novel proves fascinating
It’s no fun being the protagonist in a Patricia Highsmith novel. The late author’s work is drenched in cosmic irony: you may think you’re basically good, but you’re conning yourself, and God (or your superior force of choice) is about to teach you a lesson. This quality has attracted some of the world’s best filmmakers: from Guy Haines in Hitchcock’s “Strangers on a Train” to Tom Ripley in Rene Clement’s “Purple Noon” and Anthony Minghella’s excellent remake, “The Talented Mr. Ripley,” Highsmith characters reap more than their share of punishment — grand retribution for what they see (rightly or not) as petty crimes.
Hossein Amini’s film version of Highsmith’s “The Two Faces of January” wastes no time reminding us of this. Most of the action takes place in Greece in 1962; the opening scene has tour guide Rydal Keener (Oscar Isaac) explaining how, in ancient Greek religion, the Gods liked to meddle in the affairs of mortals. Shortly thereafter, when Keener chisels tourists for a few lousy bucks while converting their dollars into drachmas, he is just asking to be the latest victim of heavenly amusement.
Among the tourists he meets are well-to-do American businessman Chester MacFarland (Viggo Mortensen) and Colette (Kirsten Dunst), his substantially younger wife. (“He’s old enough to be her father,” one of the locals cracks.) Rydal is much closer to her age, and he first takes note of them because Chester reminds him of his own estranged father, whose recent funeral he refused to attend.
Rydal is naturally attracted to Colette but keeping his behavior decent; Chester unfortunately sees only the former part of their interaction. (Of course Rydal is attracted to the wife of a man who reminds him of Dad: this is the home of Oedipus, after all.) Chester doesn’t care that Rydal is skimming the top off the inflated gewgaw prices he negotiates for them, but he does care about maintaining his marital ownership of Colette.
We are barely 15 minutes in when we learn that Chester is not so much a successful businessman as he is a high-stakes swindler; he is approached by a creepy detective (David Warshofsky) demanding that Chester reimburse his mobster employers the losses he has brought them. There is a struggle, and Rydal happens by just in time to catch Chester trying to dispose of the detective’s now lifeless body. Rydal decides to help — mostly out of concern for Colette — and from then on his association with the MacFarlands drags him deeper and deeper into jeopardy.
Mortensen is no stranger to soiled characters, but Chester isn’t merely morally self-serving. He’s also unlikable, which is a less familiar characteristic for a Mortensen role. The actor puts it across perfectly, suppressing his sympathetic side. (That’s why they call it “acting.”) Isaac is even more of a revelation here; it wasn’t till halfway through that I realized I was watching the title character of “Inside Llewyn Davis” — one of recent cinema’s whiniest heroes. (That’s also why they call it “acting.”) Dunst is given far less to work with.
Amini, best known for the script of “Drive,” makes an absolutely sure-handed directorial debut, ratcheting up the material’s innate suspense bit by bit. When Alberto Iglesias’ score begins to sound like Bernard Herrmann’s work for Hitchcock toward the end, it feels perfectly appropriate. Like all the best Highsmith adaptations, “The Two Faces of January” draws into a fascinating world of murky ethics.
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ANDY KLEIN is the film critic for Marquee. He can also be heard on “FilmWeek” on KPCC-FM (89.3).