With title cards dividing it into individual chapters, including a prologue and an epilogue, director Alice Troughton's The Lesson self-consciously resembles its literary subject matter, and it's almost surprising that the movie itself isn't a literary adaptation. Alex MacKeith's screenplay is full of dry wit, but it's the performances that bring it to life, adding depth and emotion to the subtle moments of manipulation and deceit.
There's something vaguely unsettling about the Sinclair household from the moment that aspiring novelist Liam Sommers (Daryl McCormack) arrives to work as a tutor for the university-bound Bertie Sinclair (Stephen McMillan). Bertie's father is legendary author J.M. Sinclair (Richard E. Grant), who's been holed up for years supposedly working on his next book. Liam is an admirer who wrote his thesis on J.M.'s work, but Bertie's mother, Hélène (Julie Delpy), emphasizes that Liam is there solely for Bertie.
Like much of what all the Sinclairs tell Liam, that turns out to be a lie, and soon J.M. is enlisting Liam's help, at least for minor computer issues and some proofreading. Liam gets drawn further and further into the family's internal turmoil, which has been fueled by the suicide of their older son two years earlier. Liam, too, seems to have ulterior motives, although the characters' intentions are conveyed mostly in furtive glances and pointed insinuations.
At times The Lesson is too subdued for its own good, and the tension builds so slowly in the first half of the movie that it sometimes seems like it isn't there at all. Isobel Waller-Bridge's playful yet stately orchestral score hints at the deviousness underneath each interaction, without ever becoming a distraction. Troughton, a veteran of British TV making her feature debut, gives The Lesson a sense of chilly detachment, even at the sprawling, verdant Sinclair estate, with its vast gardens and private lake. This is the kind of upper-class home where the butler always refers to Liam as Mr. Sommers, no matter how often he insists otherwise.
That stiff reserve makes the breaks in decorum even more notable, and the conflicts burst out into the open in the third act, giving Delpy the chance to play a sort of highbrow femme fatale. When Hélène fixes her gaze on Liam, it's alternately withering and sultry, and sometimes an enticing mix of both. It wouldn't be quite accurate to call The Lesson an erotic thriller, but there are some thrillingly erotic moments, especially between McCormack and Delpy. The actors don't get to drop their careful restraint often, but when they do, they make the most of it.
Just as the famous, pompous J.M. looms large over his family, so too does Grant loom large over the movie, perfectly capturing a particular kind of erudite snobbery. He makes J.M. alternately amusing and pitiable, with an undercurrent of sadness behind every cutting remark. There's also an unspoken but persistent racial component to the Sinclairs' treatment of Liam, a Black man in a realm that is still overwhelmingly white. The Sinclairs never hesitate to remind him of his status as an employee, whenever they judge that he's overstepped the bounds of his position.
The potential for social commentary remains mostly in the background, though, and the climax, while producing some thrills, comes as a slight letdown. The characters remain somewhat inscrutable, even when they lay out their plans clearly and directly. That can engage the audience by keeping viewers guessing, but it also makes it tougher to feel satisfied with a given character's downfall or triumph. The movie ends up as calculating and aloof as the people it depicts. ♦
THE LESSON
