The Forgiven (2022)
“He could be bloody ISIS for all we know!” – David Henniger.
The Forgiven (2022)
Directed by: John Michael McDonagh
Written by: John Michael McDonagh (screenplay by), Lawrence Osborne (novel by)
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Jessica Chastain, Matt Smith, Caleb Landry Jones
A direct critique of the affluent West, John Michael McDonagh’s The Forgiven is a book adaptation that says too little with too much talent. Wealthy couple Jo (Chastain) and David (Fiennes) Henniger arrive in Morocco for a lavish holiday. Jo berates David for drinking too much and David deflects these insults by belittling Jo, the locals, and anyone within earshot. At one stage Jo grabs David’s arm while getting ogled in the street, but David just laughs and says “You know they treat their women like donkeys here. To them, you’re probably just a donkey that’s broken free of its herd.” The subtext is obvious; the Hennigers are horrible people – the embodiment of high-class snobbery – and have arrived in the country to attend a weekend-long party with some similarly horrible friends.
The party is hosted by flamboyant couple Richard (Smith) and Dally (Landry Jones) at an enormous estate in the middle of a sparse desert. Shots of drinks, drugs and excess in the compound are juxtaposed with the empty, barren surroundings. At one point local fossil diggers are shown discussing the estate, referring to it as the “faggot’s place”. This is the film’s tone – bluntly comparing hedonistic rich foreigners with the poor Moroccan locals. However, outside of these surface level comparisons, McDonagh fails to draw any compelling conclusions. For instance, at one stage the partygoers are doing lines of cocaine while debating the integration of Muslim immigrants in both France and America. Other films – such as Sally Potter’s The Party – look to ridicule the ill-founded arguments of the rich with witty repartee, usually in the form of someone with a legitimate point. But this is merely a group of wealthy people being blissfully unaware of their offensive and boorish global views, spouting self-aggrandising witticisms while demeaning servants. The message of ‘rich, ignorant foreigners are bad’ is communicated in the opening scene, and unfortunately none of the party scenes build on this concept. However, the film develops a more meaningful message when David leaves the compound.
While driving to the villa at night, David runs over a young Moroccan boy, killing him instantly. He then reluctantly agrees to travel with the father Abdellah (Kanater) back to his hometown to bury the boy. Initially nonplussed by the death, David slowly begins to appreciate and atone for the pain he has caused the boy’s family. It’s a cliche message, with the ignorant David only learning by ‘walking a mile’ in the boys shoes, but with some tense scenes and a pilgrimage through the harsh desert, Fiennes embodies a sympathetic man willing to change. The performance does flirt with the stereotypical ‘enlightened foreigner’ trope, with an almost unbelievable transformation from the man who claimed Abdellah “could be ISIS” only scenes before, but at least it’s a rare moment of positivity in a mostly depressing film. Ismael Kanater also brings some much needed humanity to these scenes as the grieving and agitated father.
Outside of some stunning cinematography and promising themes, The Forgiven feels too inconsequential to be engaging. Hampered by universally unlikable characters and simple moral messaging, the story unfortunately fails the fantastic cast.
Rating: 6/10