Movies I Missed: Chloe

Sometimes movies of note sneak past my field of vision. In an effort to correct these oversights, I’m combing through the list of flicks I missed in the last couple years to see what all the buzz was about.

I’ve been a staunch supporter of writer/director Atom Egoyan since he dropped The Adjuster and Exotica in the early ’90s. His moody style and obsession with voyeurism and sexual dysfunction was refreshingly edgy, especially for someone reared on the films of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Egoyan peaked in 1997 with the ethereal The Sweet Hereafter, a nuanced exploration about how tragedy destroys a tight-knit community. Since then, his filmography has been in decline with more misses than hits. Enter last year’s Chloe, which manages to fail on several levels, despite featuring another excellent performance from Julianne Moore.

The plot involves a middle-aged gynecologist played by Moore who suspects her professor husband (Liam Neeson) of having an affair. Her solution is to hire a sexy prostitute (Amanda Seyfried) to tempt him with lustful advances to see if he responds. What follows is a tepid psychological drama chock full of lies, deception and hot lesbian sex between Moore and Seyfried.

My biggest issue with the film is the tiresome territory it treads. This kind of story has been done countless times before, and done better by guys not as skilled as Egoyan. A standard infidelity tale needs to come from a different angle in order to prevent it from looking like a cheap Fatal Attraction ripoff; unfortunately, Chloe commits this fatal error. The so-called third act twist the writers throw at us is predictable and sloppily executed.

There’s also a severe lack of backstory and character motivation. For example, Moore’s teenage son hates her, but we have no idea why. Passing it off as normal adolescent behavior isn’t enough to explain his cold demeanor. Along those same lines, Seyfried’s call girl lacks depth; her choice of profession makes her ripe for further examination, but we are given no insight into her damaged past. Also, Seyfried’s performance is completely flat, which is surprising because she is a talented young actress, not to mention extremely easy on the eyes. The movie’s only saving grace is Moore, who conjures sympathy even though she’s beset by insecurity and paranoia.

Egoyan is known for stylish and cohesive narratives. Chloe is neither. I blame Erin Cressida Wilson for crafting a choppy, uninspired script that relies on soap opera tropes rather than inventive plotting. Egoyan is clearly better off working from material he’s written himself or adapted. I had high hopes this would be a return to form for a gifted director, but Chloe did nothing but bore me from start to finish.