The Burnt Orange Heresy, 2020.
Directed by Giuseppe Capotondi
Starring Claes Bang, Elizabeth Debicki, Donald Sutherland, Mick Jagger, Rosalind Halstead, and Alessandro Fabrizi
SYNOPSIS:
Hired to steal a rare painting from one of the most enigmatic painters of all time, an ambitious art dealer becomes consumed by his own greed and insecurity as the operation spins out of control.
The Burnt Orange Heresy begins with James Figueras (Claes Bang) delivering an art seminar where he invents a fictional story about a particular painting meant to give the work a deeper sense of meaning and therefore, higher quality. It’s an effective speech, but not because the deception comes as a surprise (the segment features some cuts to James practicing his lies back at home while carrying out mundane tasks), but due to how a persuasive and talented critic can potentially trick just about anyone into sharing the opinion that a work of art is a masterpiece.
Following the lecture, James is approached by one of his listeners, Berenice Hollis (Elizabeth Debicki, disappointingly underwritten despite being the only real empathetic entry point to the narrative and more intriguing than the film ever fleshes out) who, for reasons explained later that would have a brighter light shined on in a better movie, decides to chat him up, subsequently hooking up with him. As the two also get to know each other, James reveals that not everything about his story (it’s about a famous painter during World War II captured by the Nazis who painted pictures while sneakily and symbolically drawing flies on the human beings, all while waiting to return to his significant other) was fake, further establishing that this is a man none of us should believe or trust. Key to understanding what depth The Burnt Orange Heresy contains (and it’s honestly not much), even lies gotten away with can emerge as morally haunting.
James also happens to be enlisted and flown out to Italy by wealthy art collector Joseph Cassidy (Mick Jagger, in some of the strangest and least convincing casting that will be seen all year) to conduct an interview with legendary painter fresh off turning 84, Jerome Debney (Donald Sutherland), a rare opportunity considering he has become somewhat of a hermit following a fire that took all of the art he brought into the world. The interview also appears to be a cover for James to get a sneak peek at what Jerome is currently painting, so he can write about it. There’s about 30 minutes or so where James and Joseph discuss the plan at length, which becomes tedious considering a five-minute cameo setting things up would have sufficed.
Joseph leaves the secluded manner on business leaving James to get the job done, with the film formally introducing Donald Sutherland’s Jerome, which slightly picks up the pace but is never really able to actually generate momentum as characters constantly speak to one another in simple metaphors that are not nearly as thought-provoking as they might sound in the script. What that means is the only really engaging element here is the dynamic between James and Berenice, where the former increasingly becomes paranoid that she has been hired to spy on him. For a few brief minutes, Berenice and Jerome get their own private stroll around the establishment together, opening up her character in tantalizing ways that are pretty much dropped because ultimately this is a portrait heist film with little spark.
For the third act, The Burnt Orange Heresy dramatically switches up tones, becoming a more exciting film but also one that doesn’t earn the nastiness on display, as it has its major players frustratingly acting out of character. It’s not wrong to say that the final 30 minutes here don’t make a lick of sense, as characters become different people entirely, and not in a way that’s about revealing their true selves, more so bad writing going for shock value that doesn’t fit into the narrative. If The Burnt Orange Heresy had droplets of gallows humor throughout the preceding two acts, the finale developments would come across more natural with the accompanying characters’ shifts easier to digest. Instead, it’s like watching another movie that would be better if it weren’t for the fact that it’s turning its back on itself.
In the defensive of director Giuseppe Capotondi (making his follow-up to 2009’s The Double Hour) and writer Scott B. Smith (based on the novel by Charles Willeford), he knows where he ultimately wants to take the message of The Burnt Orange Heresy, and there is venomous black humor during the epilogue that almost justifies the tonal dissonance. Ending up in a good place is fine, but it feels like the first two-thirds of the script were accidentally burnt and redrafted on location. That would be one explanation for the messiness to the structure where the only impressive constant is Elizabeth Debicki making the most of a half-cooked character.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, friend me on Facebook, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, check out my personal non-Flickering Myth affiliated Patreon, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
