WHERE THE TRUTH LIES
Directed & Written by: Atom Egoyan, based on the novel by Rupert Holmes.
Produced by: Robert Lantos.
Director of Photography: Paul Sarossy.
Edited by: Susan Shipton.
Music by: Mychael Danna.
Released by: THINKFilm.
Country of Origin: Canada/UK/USA. 107 min. Rated: NC-17.
With: Kevin Bacon, Colin Firth & Alison Lohman.
DVD Features: "The Making of Where the Truth Lies" featurette. Delected scenes. French & English audio & subtitles.

"I like to look them in the eyes," is how Lanny Morris (Kevin Bacon) describes his sexual exploits, which is why it is no surprise the opening scene reveals a full close-up of this 1950's comedic icon, his dark, shifting eyes penetrating the screen as he performs in a telethon with his partner, straight man Vince Collins (Colin Firth). This mystery/semi-thriller is, indeed, thoroughly engrossed in its own highly sexual nature. Unlike many films, Where the Truth Lies does not incorporate its exceptionally provocative scenes just for the sake of capitalizing on sex. Sexuality is a necessary component of the film's plot. Thus, a relatively graphic ménage a trois between the main characters and a young woman cannot be deemed all that offensive, when, without it, the film could not exist.

An ambitious journalist, Karen O'Connor (Alison Lohman), hopes to use Lanny and Vince's story to make a name for herself, striving to solve the murder of a girl found dead in the duo's hotel suite 15 years earlier, right before the two split up. A series of flashbacks and flash forwards, as well as a shared narrative between O'Connor and the two stars weave together a plausible explanation. At the end, the viewer is left marveling at the intricacies and elusive nature of the truth, a thought-provoking theme which Atom Egoyan subtly inserts into the show business-based story line.

Vince and Lanny each have their own take on what happened in their hotel suite, and create elaborate personas to mask their differing versions of reality. Most notably, O'Connor presents herself under a completely false pretense upon meeting Lanny Morris; she cannot disclose her true purpose. Throughout, she continues to lose sight of her ultimate objectives, as demonstrated in a vividly surreal, drug-induced scene in which she has a sexual encounter with a singer dressed as Alice from the children's story Alice in Wonderland (a doubly light and dark piece of literature in and of itself, which deals with a similar transformation of identity).

What is remarkable about Egoyan's film is that he layers such dark and dense themes with the characteristic frivolities of a typical murder mystery. It seems as if Egoyan satirizes his own film, purposely smoothing over a highly psychological and rough-edged film noir with the congenial softness of the mystery genre.

Then there is the question of two highly idealized public figures, which were never held accountable for the murder that ruined their lives - a commentary on America's obsession with celebrity and lack of moral attribution. What Egoyan succeeds in creating is a compelling mystery that transcends its clichés and stays with the viewer long after the film has ended - an anomaly which forces the onlooker to remain actively curious both throughout and after the film. Parisa Vaziri
October 14, 2005

DVD Extras: In a refreshing departure from most “making of” featurettes, this barely five-minute fly-on-the-wall look moves at a fast pace and captures the cast and crew with their guards down. It’s amusing to see Rachel Blanchard reclining in position as the corpse, casually chatting as the make-up artist adds another shade of pale to her face. Rather than self-congratulatory or defensive opining, the lack of a voice-over feels like the right choice for a lurid murder mystery that received largely mixed reviews (due in some part to the casting of Alison Lohman, who’s both too fragile and too young as Karen, the driven journalist in charge of a million dollar book deal). Like most deleted scenes tacked onto DVDs, there are no shocking revelations, but there are several more hints of Karen’s father-figure fixation, which is briefly referred to in the film. Kent Turner
March 1, 2006