Closed Circuit

Closed Circuit is one of those rare thrillers that leaves you puzzled for all the wrong reasons. Packed with plot and self-importance but devoid of thrills or emotional engagement, you’ll question yourself throughout: is this as mind-numbingly dull as it seems, or am I just missing something?
Spoiler: You’re not missing anything.
Addressing themes of terrorism, corruption and surveillance states, Closed Circuit stars the handsome but perpetually dull Eric Bana and the impressive Rebecca Hall as former lovers defending a man accused of a terrorist attack that killed 120 people. Despite their animosity towards each other and convoluted laws that prevent them from discussing the case, they uncover a huge conspiracy which could destroy the British government.
It’s intriguing material, echoing the political mistrust and paranoia of Three Days Of Condor and The Parallax View, and harbouring potential for His Girl Friday-style chemistry between the leads. However, the sheer lack of urgency proves astounding. Painfully obvious foreshadowing reveals every twist early, while gaping plot holes are dodgily covered with nonsensical, one-line bridges.
Most damaging is the lack of energy and thus audience concern. While many thrillers dilute the power of their institutional criticisms with explosions and hysteria, Closed Circuit is so repressed, dignified and, well, British that it lacks any emotional punch. The characters never seem passionate or crushed or betrayed – merely irritated. For a film about ideals, it’s a fatal misstep.
Shot in relentlessly drab greys and emotionally colourless to boot, it’s a rare film that leaves one gagging for a bit of American dramatics and podium-thumping patriotism. But I suppose The Intricacies Of London’s Closed Court System, Fuck Yeah! really doesn’t have the same ring to it.