“Disclaimer” achieves great drama at the price of deep unrest

If you’ve seen or read enough stories about revenge, chances are good that you’ve come across the saying “Those who seek revenge dig two graves” or some other variation. Probably incorrectly attributed to Confucius, its significance nonetheless carries weight. The new drama Disclaimer engages with the proverb much more seriously than most other approaches that seek catharsis through retribution.

Teacher Stephen Brigstocke (Kevin Kline) has just thrown himself self-destructively into his own firing, which is quite a fall for a former Teacher of the Year. He is alone, a widower; his wife Nancy (Lesley Manville) has died of cancer after a long time. In many ways, however, he is alone since their son Jonathan (Louis Partridge) died some two decades earlier. Then his wife began to pull away from him and didn’t stop until her death.

With his newfound time, he begins cleaning out the closets and closets that have remained unused since her death. Among the rubble he discovers a number of objects that lead to a manuscript. On the pages, Nancy describes her son’s last days in Italy. More importantly, she blames Catherine Ravenscroft (Cate Blanchett) for his death. Catherine is now a highly successful documentary filmmaker, married to financier Robert (Sacha Baron Cohen) and has an adult son, Nicholas (Kodi Smit-McPhee).

But when Jonathan met her, Nancy’s book says, Catherine (Leila George in the flashbacks) was a young mother, unhappy and alone with her young child (George Haarer). The manuscript goes on to say that she and Jonathan had a brief but intense sexual relationship, a claim supported by a stack of provocative photos taken with Jonathan’s camera. After their affair, Jonathan drowned, helping to save young Nicholas’ life.

With these revelations, the listless Stephen finds a new spark. He will systematically destroy Catherine with the book. She has to pay for Jonathan’s death – and with it for the loss of Nancy. Stephen is exactly the man to make it happen.

For much of the season, writer-director Alfonso Cuarón, adapting Renée Knight’s novel, plunges viewers into this disturbing plot. They accompany Stephen as he wages a campaign that is a mix of harassment, embarrassment, isolation and physical assault. Although not one Fun games Whether in tone or misanthropy, it forces the audience to ask similar questions of themselves until the dust settles. Was Stephen’s conspiracy a nearly equivalent response, regardless of what Catherine was guilty of? How willing were the audience to take part and why? At first glance it is a vicious and cruel act, but that is what it is Disclaimer seductive power that most people will only feel long afterwards. And this critic unfortunately counts himself as one of these “they”.

Aside from Cuarón’s performance, Kline’s performance also deserves a lot of credit for keeping viewers on his side even as the water gets closer and closer to boiling. Because he’s as grey, tired and disheveled as he’s ever been on screen, it’s easy to see his Stephen as a pathetic figure. He fills his opening monologue about how little he cares about teaching now with hopeless resignation. He wanders around his empty home in his pajamas and his wife’s cardigan, buttoned around his much larger frame. When he leaves the house, he wears it under his clothes and smears it with his son’s old cologne.

However, his increasingly hardened gaze and toxic inner monologue give the game away. He is a man who was “given” permission to play the monster. He begins driven, but hesitantly, unsure. But he soon begins to enjoy his “mission”. What started as an obligation for him becomes a joy, and Kline lets us see every step.

Blanchett is equally good in what is in many ways more challenging part. Aside from being identified early on as the series’ antagonist, she has to play things mysteriously and reserved. For the story to work, it can’t be too expressive – until it has to. It’s easy to fade into the background in a role like this, but she lets the audience feel how Catherine knows how to play. With every humiliation, every defeat, you can practically hear how she is kept under control with teeth-gnashing intensity.

In contrast to Kline’s portrayal of the wolf in sheep’s clothing, Blanchett is visibly full of feelings, but she cannot express them. You can’t even see through them in their part of the voiceover. Putting it in the third person and having Indira Varma recite it is a subtly wise decision. It further distances the viewer from Catherine’s secrets.

There are times when Disclaimer Feels a bit unstructured and needs more refinement. There is a fine line between a slow build and just too slow. However, as the series reaches its climax, it becomes harder to tell whether it went on too long. Would this moment have been as hard if we hadn’t lived with Stephen for so long? Wouldn’t we have seen Catherine’s worries and needs in such detail? I would argue that it’s probably still a bit long, but it feels more justified when the bigger picture becomes clear.

Disclaimer is not a simple watch. It will probably make you feel uneasy at times and maybe even a little disgusted. If not on himself, then definitely on some of the characters. However, from an acting and acting perspective, the investment is worth it, however uncomfortable it may be.

Disclaimer writes the book about revenge on AppleTV+ from October 11th.

Disclaimer Trailer: