Mark Reviews Movies: FATALE

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Review by Mark Dujsik | December 18, 2020

There's something kind of admirable about David Loughery's screenplay for Fatale, in the way the narrative constantly shifts the goals and stakes of this story. We think we're watching the story of a man in an unfulfilling marriage, making a one-night (and the-following-morning) mistake and having to deal with the potential consequences of a meaningless affair.

Then, the man is almost killed in a home invasion, and we think we're about to see the mystery of this burglary and/or attempted murder unfold. Immediately after that, the woman from the guy's 12-hour mistake shows up, and well, maybe this story is actually about that now.

To be fair, the plot isn't as all over the place as this quick summary of the first act (only part of it, mind you) might appear. There is something of a clear through line for the trials of Derrick (Michael Ealy), the co-owner of a very successful company that does brand management for athletes, and the effects of his far-less-than-ideal connection to Valerie (Hilary Swank), the woman with whom he spends a passionate night and awkwardly coerced morning in Las Vegas.

Things keep escalating, until there are several dead bodies left in the wake of that chance encounter, but Loughery is so set on shifting gears and raising the stakes that he loses track of everything that has happened prior to the next twist. The movie sacrifices logic, sound character choices, and narrative consistency in favor of constantly trying to surprise us.

Michael seems to have it all: a knockout of a wife named Traci (played by Damaris Lewis), a hugely profitable business, a mansion, and a luxury sports car on a driveway turntable. He and Traci have hit a rough patch, though, and Michael suspects his wife might be having an affair.

While on a trip to Vegas with his best friend/business partner Rafe (Mike Colter), our insecure protagonist strikes up a conversation with Valerie at a bar. They end up having sex in her hotel room, and the next morning, a clingy Valerie won't get his cellphone out of the room safe unless he has sex with her again.

Upon returning home, Michael decides to focus on his marriage again, but soon after, an intruder, armed with a pistol, enters the couple's mansion. Michael fights off the masked man, and when the police arrive, the detective in charge of investigating the crime just happens to be Valerie. She wants something from Michael, but he can't figure out what that might be.

Loughery seems uncertain, too, which makes Valerie, played with some appreciated restraint and lots of vacant staring into the distance by Swank, more of a plot device than an actual character. Is she romantically obsessed with Michael, or are her suggestions and implied threats of making their secret known a kind of revenge?

Has she actually determined the truth of Michael's attempted murder (Loughery completely forgets to provide a real answer to what seems like a pretty important plot point, since it's what kicks the story into motion, but he also glosses over the consequences of three killings, too). Is this just another part of her game?

Loughery and director Deon Taylor don't really care about the particulars, because every development or revelation from Valerie primarily exists to set the plot down yet another path. Michael learns a secret about his wife. A seemingly random politician (played by Dann Pino), being investigated for corruption, turns out to Valerie's ex-husband, who has custody of their daughter, who was left paralyzed after some drunken neglect on Valerie's part. These two threads kind of weave together eventually—but not before Loughery takes us about halfway through at least two different and pretty familiar story ideas (the obsessed lover or just plain psychopath toying with a morally questionable man and the wrong man accused of a crime for which he seems like the prime suspect).

From the look and basic plot conceits of the movie, it's clear that the filmmakers are attempting a modern noir. Their efforts, though, are more empty pastiche—pieced together from well-established story elements, with little thought for the many ways these various developments contradict each other in terms of internal logic—than genuine homage or a legitimately effective story in its own right.

Some credit should go to Ealy, who really is too good an actor and too strong a screen presence to keep getting involved in schlock like this, for his committed turn as a man whose life spirals out of control on account of an error in judgment. Fatale spirals, too, but it makes many more mistakes.

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