SEPARATE LIES — ** — Tom Wilkinson, Emily Watson, Rupert Everett; rated R (profanity, vulgarity).
"Separate Lies" is one of those exasperatingly decent British movies about indecent people. The Mannings have a lovely London apartment, a sprawling cottage in the country, each other — but having it all is never enough, is it? Someone has an affair. The affair leads, inexorably, to trouble. And the trouble affords bogus insight and personal growth.
A first-time directing effort by writer Julian Fellowes, "Separate Lies" begins in a state of bucolic bliss that immediately goes sour. An old man is riding a bike on a country road when he's killed by a speeding SUV that doesn't even stop. The person most likely to be the driver is a priggish aristocrat named William Bule (Rupert Everett), who's sleeping with Anne Manning (Emily Watson), who's married to James (Tom Wilkinson), a dreary solicitor. It's obvious to everyone but James that his marriage is as dull as he is.
After Anne confesses her sin, James' teary rage turns into sanctimoniousness. Not only has he been cuckolded, he's also been drawn into an ethical quagmire that he feels is utterly beneath him. And the hit-and-run victim wasn't just anyone, he was the husband of the Mannings' maid, Maggie (Linda Bassett, who's outstanding). Anne wants to tell the police the truth, but William and, suddenly, James, would rather concoct a ruse to protect the woman they love.
This is the sort of juicy interclass intrigue one would expect from Fellowes, who wrote Robert Altman's searing whodunit "Gosford Park." The conditions in "Separate Lies" are nearly perfect for similar interpersonal surprises, but the nastiness doesn't last long. Fellowes demonstrates a healthy certainty that movie characters should exist in fits of good and bad behavior, but this movie, which he adapted from Nigel Balchin's "A Way Through the Wood," is short on conviction — be it legal or moral.
In a voiceover, James tells us right from the start that "secrets and discontent lie beneath even the smoothest surface," so we know we're in for 90 obvious minutes, but it's cruel that they aren't more fun. The story peels back a series of anticlimaxes, including a cockamamie illness and some snoozy rapprochements. No one in the film seems to be thinking with a brain or emoting with a heart, so most of the decisions seem random.
Wilkinson's willingness to put up with a character who's such a dullard and a dupe is admirable. And after his impassive performance as the accused priest in "The Exorcism of Emily Rose," it's a relief to see him apply some force to a role. Watson, on the other hand, has never been so plain. One need only think back to the sly scamp she played in "Gosford Park" to miss the crackle of danger and curiosity that typically makes her performances so urgent.
The people in "Separate Lies" appear to be needy for approval. They're incapable of controlling themselves, yet remorseful about their lack of control. Even James' secretary, Priscilla (Hermione Norris), spends the entire film looking longingly at her boss, only to meekly ask if he'd like to come over for a bowl of spaghetti. Naturally, she apologizes after she's rebuffed.
Only Everett really serves the whiff of haughty disdain we crave, slouching and mumbling through the whole picture. But it's too much. His indifference to the particulars of this character implies a certain self-disdain.
"Separate Lies" is a movie you want to like. Anne's obscene confession to James, for instance, is delivered as wholesomely as a tray of tea. But Fellowes is so desperate for us to like these people that, despite how guilty everyone seems, there's scarcely any pleasure in the film for us.
"Separate Lies" is rated R for language, including some sexual references. Running time: 85 minutes.