The Ghost Writer
The reviews were very good, and this was even more disappointing because of that. Ewan McGregor goes to the house where ex-PM Tony Blair (oh, okay, “Adam Lang,” but it’s so obviously Blair) is writing his memoirs. His job is to make the turgid stuff more readable. The perfectly awful house where the ex-PM and wife and staff live and work must have been designed by the same sadistic architect who built the house where Michael Caine lived in the perfectly awful remake of Sleuth. It’s Roman Polanski, so the build-up of tension is fascinating and well-done as we start to learn of the deadly skullduggery that was afoot before, and is still going on, but the pay-off is laughable, really stupid.