In the early years of the 21st century, Cate Blanchett and Alfonso Cuarón produced two of the most remarkable pieces of cinema. Blanchett is renowned for her stirring voiceover in Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, where she impeccably delivered a monologue on Middle-earth mythology. This performance could have fallen flat like a dreary weekend at a Tolkien gathering, but she infused it with a mesmerising eeriness.
Cuarón, on his part, offered us Children of Men. The film is a bleak depiction of a realm battling a refugee crisis, plummeting birth rates, and rampant far-right politics. Over time, this film has come across more as a portent than just a sci-fi movie. It stands as one of the most influential films of the last 25 years, seeming like an ominous glimpse into a future hurtling towards us.
Given their track record, Disclaimer – a seven-part Apple TV+ drama featuring Blanchett and penned and guided by Cuarón – was expected to be a timeless classic. It is, however, a letdown to see that Blanchett’s profound performance style coupled with Cuarón’s directorial signature fails to cater to the requirements of the binge-watch generation.
Despite an array of talent behind and before the camera, Disclaimer seems ostentatious and self-indulgent, overwhelmed with detestable, pitiful characters and a fixation with the concept of an untrustworthy storyteller. Granted, it’s captured beautifully, and Blanchett is as dedicated as ever. Still, this ostentatious miniseries topples into self-importance rather swiftly.
In a review of Disclaimer, it’s evident that the talents of Cate Blanchett and Alfonso Cuarón far outweigh this self-important and showy disappointment.
Blanchett’s character, Catherine Ravenscroft, is a successful London documentarian mingled with her distant Gen Z son and an uninspired toff spouse, portrayed by Sacha Baron Cohen. She leads a seemingly idyllic existence with sumptuous clothes, a palatial kitchen, and extravagant wine glasses. However, her life is thrown into disarray when she receives a novel that appears to mirror her secret Italian holiday affair from two decades ago, during which her clueless husband, Robert, was back home in England.
The narrative then switches back to Catherine’s affair, portrayed by young Leila George (the progeny of Greta Scaachi), who is depicted as a high-society temptress entangling the foolish Jonathan, played by Louis Partridge. Although Jonathan is intended as a somewhat naïve character in their romantic escapade, Partridge (presumably under the director’s instruction) overplays this, portraying him as more of a man-child. One can’t help but wonder how he made it as far as Italy without adult supervision, let alone ending up in bed with Catherine.
The novel that stirs Catherine’s tranquil life is the creation of Jonathan’s mother (presented by Lesley Manville), who wrote it after her son experienced a misfortune during the same Italian holiday. Now that she’s gone, her anger towards her son’s older love interest lingers with her husband, Stephen (Kevin Kline), who is the individual that sent the novel to Catherine, marking the beginning of a revenge plot that could drastically transform their lives.
The plot derives from Renée Knight’s 2015 publication, Disclaimer. It falls within the realm of thrilling mysteries that could potentially make for an exhilarating ride. Envisage a version of this story available on Netflix, possibly featuring Nicole Kidman replacing Blanchett.
However, instead of indulging in thrill, Blanchett and director Cuarón prefer to batter the audience with grave dialogues and annoyingly pretentious art-house nuances. These include recurring cutaways to wildlife, like a fox lurking outside Robert’s home or an insect in Stephen’s kitchen. Cuarón seems to be drawing a broader conclusion about the inherently competitive nature of human relations. The ultimate learning from this overly stylised series could be to shield melodramatic narratives from experimental directors.