Every moment in The Lesson’s early going seemingly exists to illustrate pulp novelist Jim Thompson’s famous saying: “There is only one plot—things are not what they seem.” We see eminent novelist J.M. Sinclair (Richard E. Grant) languidly remarking to an interviewer that “average writers attempt originality…the great writers steal.” Then up-and-coming writer Liam Sommers (Daryl McCormack) is seen studying videos of J.M. with a mysterious intensity before he then shows up at J.M.’s luxurious home to tutor the man’s son, Bertie (Stephen McMillan). Throughout, the close-ups of the algae-covered pond behind the home make it seem as if a better name for the film would have been What Lies Beneath.
Alex MacKeith’s screenplay unfolds in a confidently unhurried manner—sharp and literary-minded without ever feeling the need to wear any of its influences on its sleeve. Yes, we’re subjected to an ostentatiously placed quote by English author Jeanette Winterson, but it’s there more to illustrate a character’s dramatically convenient memory than to gild the lily.
Liam soon discovers that the Sinclair household is a minefield of tensions, ready to explode at the slightest misstep. An anxiety-rattled teenager, Bertie seems both to resent Liam’s presence and to desperately want to tell him a secret. J.M. stays mostly holed up in his writing studio, emerging at dinner time to berate whoever is at the table. The house’s matriarch, Helene (Julie Delpy), referees the skirmishes and tries to maintain the uneasy stalemate of recrimination and guilt that’s darkened the house since Bertie’s brother drowned two years earlier.
Confining The Lesson almost entirely to the Sinclair manse’s handsomely manicured and well-staffed grounds, the filmmakers lay out its multiple interlocking mysteries with suspense-building care. Turns out, each of the main characters has their secrets. For one, Liam is tutoring Bertie out of financial necessity, but it’s also no accident that he wrote his thesis on J.M.’s work. And even though J.M., the very rare critically acclaimed writer of bestsellers, hacks away at his long-awaited new novel night after night, he’s suspiciously squirrelly about it.
Underlying everything in the loudly quiet house is the unspoken truth that something about the drowning was just not right. And as more truths are revealed, the power plays ratchet up, taking on an air of cool eroticism and danger that makes a sharp contrast to the ostensibly languid summery setting. MacKeith veers close to making the story a bit too much of a joke, and the characters are all somewhat overly recognizable types, but the cast give them nuance.
The brooding, domineering J.M. is close to a caricature of the art monster whose selfishness is so overwhelming that it nearly blots out the sun, though Grant brings just enough of his signature rascally twinkle to the part that the villainy seems nearly tongue in cheek. Delpy’s flintiness is a good fit for her seemingly ethereal yet ultimately grounded and practical grande dame. And McCormack’s handsome cipher gives less away but toggles from sincerity to duplicity so fluidly that you believe he’s capable of just about anything. It’s a testament to the skills of the cast and filmmakers that The Lesson’s mysteries, while easy to foretell, are worth unraveling.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
