The Clearing
Directed by Pieter Jan Brugge
Written by Justin Haythe
Starring Robert Redford, Helen Mirren, Willem Dafoe
Classification: R
Rating: * ½
The Clearing is a murky movie. So murky that its three ostensibly bright stars — Robert Redford, Helen Mirren and Willem Dafoe — have their light totally hidden under the bushel of the script. Apparently — and this is a shot in the dark — it's all meant to be a psychological thriller that messes with the conventions of the genre. Mission accomplished: When the psychology is incomprehensibly vague, and the thrills nowhere in sight, I'd say the mess is complete.
Pieter Jan Brugge, a long-time producer turned first-time director, opens up the picture with a mini-portrait of a marriage. It's a weekday morning in the Hayes' palatial home. Husband Wayne (Redford) awakens, dresses, then breakfasts by the pool with his attentive wife Eileen (Mirren). He's a successful, self-made businessman; she's an elegant, dutiful spouse; over the years, their casual conversation has shrunk to a taut shorthand — concise, mildly teasing, not unaffectionate. The man leaves for the office; the woman reminds him of a dinner party; it's a day like any other — until the kidnapper strikes.
When her husband fails to return that night, Eileen calls 911 and is told that "People wander off all the time." Not this time. Flashback to the deed: On the way to work, Wayne is abducted from his car by a hunched man whose name is as nerdy as his manner. But Arnold (Dafoe) gets the dirty job done, and takes his victim — whom he appears to know — off into the deep woods, where they start an extended hike to some unspecified destination. Meanwhile, back at the house, the harsh reality has set in and so have the FBI — they're crawling all over the place, poking about and awaiting the ransom demand.
The premise, then, seems basic, even familiar. What's strange is the foggy way it unfolds, almost lazily and without any intensity. The actors themselves register little emotion, because their lines don't allow them to. Instead, from there, the film divides itself down the middle, consistently inter-cutting between the two competing scenarios — the long trek through the woods and the long wait in the home. In each half, revelations come that cast shadows on the state of the Hayes' marriage. Seems Wayne had been conducting an affair — news the cops are kind enough to share with the unwitting Eileen. However, trapped in the foxhole of his current dilemma, Wayne has seen the light and comes to realize the depth of his love for Eileen. Then there's Arnold, envious of his captive's material success and convinced that he's the real victim — an underachiever dealt a raw deal by life's unfair caprice.
None of this adds up to much; worse, all of it unfolds at a pace that would cure insomnia. Fiction is usually guilty of hyperbole, of spicing up humdrum reality, but this material plays like a bizarre exercise in compensation — never has a kidnapping seemed so dishwater dull. And when there is a late, brief burst of action, it just feels and artificial. So does much of the dialogue, especially the exchanges between Redford and Dafoe. You can hear them both struggling to find what isn't there — some clarity, some honesty, anything that doesn't smack of theatrical contrivance.
Consequently, our trio of luminaries have their talents wholly wasted. So, forget the title and trust your senses, because The Clearing is a mirage — these thickets are impenetrable.
