The Josephine Hart novel on which this movie is based is the literary equivalent of fast food, whatever its pretensions - and the same is (perhaps unsurprisingly) true of Malle's film. There are some crack actors in this, but the biggest disappointment is that Irons isn't at his best (in fact, he is at times cringe-inducingly awful) in this story of sexual obsession. Binoche is great (although her on-set feud with Irons, who tried to direct her performance, is apparent in their lack of chemistry), but she's not called upon to do very much, and Rupert Graves is also good as Irons' son. It is Miranda Richardson - particularly in her final showdown with the husband who has both betrayed her and (she believes) killed her son - who takes the acting honours: absolutely visceral, immediate and able to access huge depths of grief, she shows up Irons' tricks for what they are. It's an accomplished TV movie with an A-List cast, but not all of them are at the top of their game in this instance: nevertheless, it's certainly worth catching.
Review of Damage
