Secrets & Lies

SECRETS AND LIES is a 1996 film by Mike Leigh that, appropriately enough, is concerned with the things that members of a family conceal from each other. Hortense (Marianne Jean-Baptiste), a black woman in London who has made a successful career as an optician, knew from a young age that she was adopted, but only after her adopted mother's death does she decide to look up her birth mother. Hortense is shocked to find that it is Cynthia (Brenda Blethyn), not just white but living in near-poverty and wallowing in regret. Cynthia has a tumultuous relationship with her acknowledged daughter Roxanne (Claire Rushbrook), who she fears to be repeating her own youthful mistakes. Cynthia also finds its hard to relate to her brother Maurice (Timothy Spall) and his cold wife Monica (Phyllis Logan), who have done well from a photo shop business. Hortense's entry into this family ultimately shatters their miserable status quo, but not without some heartbreak on the way. At this point in his career, Mike Leigh had perfected a filmmaking technique by which he had his actors live out their roles in everyday situations in the street for weeks before he started shooting. Consequently, by the time these actors were captured on film, they are totally convincing as their characters, and the characters are fleshed out through the little details that Leigh allowed to bring to them in improvising. The viewer feels that he knows these people deeply. Leigh also has a way of mixing pathos and humour. He not only will insert a comedic shot after a poignant one, but he'll then present ambiguous images where the viewer is unsure whether he should laugh or cry. While the acting and that dash of humour is quite powerful, there are elements that hold me back from universally praising this film. I've never been impressed by Leigh's use of music, which feels cheap, and only one shot (a deftly timed outdoor barbecue) was truly impressive in its mis-en-scène. And I find Leigh's previous film Naked a slightly more successful application of his art. Still, the acting in SECRETS AND LIES is really something, and I would generally recommend this film.

If I ever get around to drawing up a list of my top 25 favorite non-blockbuster movies, Secrets and Lies would roll in very near the top. I have watched it a few times and expect I will continue to do so periodically. The acting is phenomenal. It is an ensemble cast, for sure, no superstars, but three of the main actors: Timothy Spall, Brenda Blethyn and Claire Rushbrook, are among the best that Great Britain has produced. What I first saw this film, it was literally the first time I had seen those three perform, and I quickly learned to seek them out in other projects. I believe the movie won the top award at the Cannes festival, and Brenda Blethyn won a deserved Academy Oscar award. The story is a powerful one, and allows for emotional growth in a few of the characters. A few Mike Leigh movies share more than just his favorite repeat performers: they also include a big emotional reveal at the end that really pack a wallop. This movie, Mr. Harvey Lights a Candle, and All or Nothing share that element. I have read that Leigh makes his cast aware of the story but allows them leeway in improvised dialogue, sometimes when he surprises them during filming, but I haven’t studied his technique in any detail. I could go on and on about this favorite movie of mine, but I wouldn’t want to risk diminishing the impact for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie yet. Just watch and enjoy.

**A good work, currently forgotten.** Just when I think I've seen all sorts of movies about racism, issues of race or prejudice, there's something new that comes out of nowhere, or some meritorious, well-made effort that's worth seeing. This film, initially, seemed to me just a sweet and average drama in which a black woman, very successful, decides to discover the identity of her biological mother and discovers that she is white, and the difficulties and dramas of her family. It was nominated for six Oscars, losing them one by one, but without any demerits. Observing the film very closely, we can easily verify that it is not a visual or effects spectacle. On a technical level, it's a lukewarm, not to say uninteresting, uninteresting film. Even the soundtrack, which is usually a technical device that even the most regular movies tend to improve on, is pretty forgettable. Where the film really scores favorably is with regard to the script and direction. It's not a flashy movie, with a complicated or far-fetched story. Things are simple, direct and solid, and the story told is credible, effective. The script, which does not come from the North American milieu in which ethnicity, skin color and financial position seem inseparable, works well with these elements and puts in counterpoint the differences, quite strong, between the mother and the daughter, allowing the public to glimpse the intimacy of those lives. Mike Leigh is a solid director who gives us consistent and remarkable work, visible in a particular care with details, cinematography and work with the actors. And, in fact, the work of the actors is equally remarkable here: Brenda Blethyn gives us one of the most anthological works of his career, the same can be said of Timothy Spall. Marianne Jean-Baptiste, who could and should have more protagonism and attention, is not so lucky and goes much more unnoticed.

_Secrets & Lies_ is a compelling film that delves into the themes of family, identity, and the profound impact of shame on relationships. It skillfully intertwines raw emotion with a sense of honesty that reverberates throughout the narrative. The performances are remarkably authentic, fostering a strong connection with the characters and their struggles with their own secrets. The dialogue feels genuine and relatable, capturing how people talk, which adds to the film's authenticity. Each moment unfolds in a way that feels true to life, drawing you into the narrative and prompting you to reflect on your own experiences and relationships. Ultimately, _Secrets & Lies_ is a deeply moving film that prompts you to contemplate your own family dynamics. It challenges viewers to reconsider the impact of shame on personal and familial relationships, and the unspoken truths we often carry.

I reckon the fact that so many nations put this on their awards radar must suggest a lot of resonance with families, not just in Britain, who are having to come to terms with a myriad of contentious circumstances as they try to live day to day. This centres around the drink-loving “Cynthia” (Brenda Blethyn) who lives with a daughter “Roxanne” (Claire Rushbrook) who has a lively rapport with her boyfriend “Paul” (Lee Ross). Then she gets a phone call from a woman calling herself “Elizabeth”. No, not her dead mum but her long-since adopted daughter. Yep, it’s that brutal. Not surprisingly, “Cynthia” is a bit distraught by this news but agrees to meet this woman, a black lady called “Hortense” (Marianne Jean-Baptiste), at a London tube station. Now the latter woman knows of the colour difference, but the former doesn’t and so gets another of what are going to be quite a few shocks as they meet and begin to explore the potential for a relationship. Meantime, her photographer brother “Maurice” (Timothy Spall) and wife “Monica” (Phyllis Logan) are having problems of their own and as the plot develops we begin to appreciate more why the film is called “Secrets and Lies”. It might be a testament to both Blethyn and Baptiste’s performances here, but boy did I dislike both of their characters. The former could whine for her country; a smouldering maelstrom of self-pity all too frequently soaked in booze whilst the latter’s introduction technique to her new-found mother was borderline cruel and oozed a sense of selfish entitlement that really put me off. Thereafter, the story does contrive to ensure that just about every element that could cause dysfunction and depression is on display and believe it or not, the revelation of a thirty-something baby isn’t necessary the most shocking. It’s bleak, but there is some very dark humour here and occasionally even some semblance of hope as their family heads for it’s expected denouement. The photography gives it an observational intensity that at times is potent, at others intrusive, but always it is effective at immersing us in their misery. Did I enjoy this? well, no I didn’t. It is, however, quite a compelling exposé of the toxicity of relationships that drift along untended with heads in the sand and so much meaningfully unspoken and the entirely convincing Blethyn puts her heart and soul into it.