A Perfect Murder: A story about lust, greed, and murder

A roof, skylights, a loft, an artist's gallery, and two bodies in throes of lovemaking. A wedding ring is kept aside, and Gwyneth Paltrow (Emily Bradford Taylor) with a lover, David Shaw (Viggo Mortensen). A walk back home, a stunning apartment, and then to her husband Steven Taylor (Michael Douglas). Bohemian cache on one side and a rich man’s home on the other. A rich man’s unhappy wife. And soon enough, the rich man finds something is off. And things start to unravel and spin in and out of control.

In 1954, Hitchcock made his iconic Dial M for Murder, which was based on a play by Fredrick Knott. A Perfect Murder relies more on the book, making it less derivative from the classic film. It’s of course updated, brimming with a sophisticated sheen and enough star power to light up its dark tale, with three superb actors all on top of their game.

Paltrow has a soft vulnerability which makes her situation tragic. She is a natural prey, with poor judgement in men. But she also has feral instincts, symptomatic of what villains along the years have discovered of seemingly innocent women — largely to their fatal detriment. Paltrow leans into her role with languorous desperation, like a zen master in love.

Mortensen is handsome and slick and in love as Shaw, and hence immediately a target — for ill-begotten plans or simply a lover’s desperate rendezvous. Inherent in Shaw’s personality are the layers he hides within himself. When Taylor sees his art for the first time, he sizes him up immediately - “Your work is trashy but potent. Your anger is very controlled. There’s a colour of despair”.

But the film moves on the malevolent axis of Michael Douglas. There is something about his character which is toxic, with his hair and his cold eyes, his cigars and his galaxy of insistences. And the way his eyes roll as he watches a person move from one side to another. Nothing misses his gaze, not a blinking phone light, not the turn of an expression, and not even the significance of a pause. With his hair slicked back and his demeanour casual in his well-cut suits, he is home in both his gorgeous art-filled home as he is while navigating the shark-ridden waters of bonds and yields.

The plot is laid out within the first 16 minutes of the film. What gives it potency is its vivid writing. Sample this, when Taylor the husband visits Shaw the lover in the latter’s loft studio.

Taylor- I envy you. It’s something which sneaks up on you like cancer.

Shaw- You envy me?

Taylor- Yes. You now have one of life’s legitimately sublime experiences. It’s so utterly complete.

Shaw- What?

Taylor- Fucking my wife.

Shaw- We are in love sir

Taylor- You steal the crown jewel of a man’s soul and your only excuse is some candy-ass Hallmark card sentiment.

There’s a terrific cameo by David Suchet as Detective Mohamed Karaman. The beautiful touch is when he and Paltrow both speak Arabic and derive an immediate connection. It’s a tribute to the casting and writing, that Suchet's appearance immediately imparts gravity and a reassurance that the evil in this cinematic world will finally find its redeemer.

Finally, of course, the film is about three unlikeable people, who are self-centred to the point of being self-obsessed. And sympathies are scarcely derived. Though it’s easy to overlook this film as derivative and too slick for its own good, there is an irresistibility in the film, intentioned in its dramatic music, its charismatic cast and its smooth progression.  Its continuous twists tumble out incessantly, as lies and cover-ups and revelations find their own beginnings and ends. Director Andrew Davis keeps a tight rein on the proceedings, never forgetting that often sublimity is often merely trash in disguise.

The snide contrarian conceit of the film is its title - because there is hardly anything which is perfect. And in fiction, and in the world of the Hollywood thriller, it is virtually a rarity. But we should be happy with something like this film, which doesn’t allow us to take our eyes off the screen, and additionally leaves us with a strange vicarious pleasure.

Trivia

1. There is a lot of art that one sees in the loft studio of Viggo Mortensen. Interestingly, most of it is the actor's own.
2. Aitbaar - with Dimple Kapadia, Raj Babbar and Suresh Oberoi - was an unacknowledged remake of Dial M for Murder.
3. So as to create an atmosphere of closeness before they filmed the lovemaking scenes, Viggo sang love songs, which he'd learnt in Argentina, to Paltrow. It is not documented whether it put Paltrow to ease or simply scared her even more!

Watch A Perfect Murder here. 

(Views expressed in this piece are those of the author, and do not necessarily represent those of OTTplay)

(Written by Sunil Bhandari, a published poet and host of the podcast ‘Uncut Poetry’)