The Art of Telling Lies

Pascal Payant must not be able to believe his luck that The Art of Telling Lies is releasing right as a seemingly endless list of the rich and famous are being implicated in all kinds of horrors thanks to the release of the Epstein files. The film’s plot involves elite members of society being forced to partake in a sinister game through blackmail – a timely concept but one that derails as the story goes on.

A group of strangers from high society receive invitations to a mysterious special event at a hidden castle. Rather than being met by Claudia Winkleman, they instead find themselves blackmailed by a faceless adversary – who uses their sordid history of murder, affairs, abuse and more to bend the hostages to their will. The group must decide how best to work against their predicament, whilst coming to terms to who they really are.

The Art of Telling Lies is a ruthless and intense mystery thriller from the word ‘go’. The plot races into action as its protagonists are placed into a fateful roundtable where their darkest secrets are revealed, leading to all manner of fury before a full-blown conspiracy plot gets into gear. There does seem to be a desire from director Pascal Payant to ensure that the viewer can barely gather their senses before the next shocking twist or screaming monologue is unleashed. There is a darkly comedic element to the ‘Saw’-like manipulation at play in the film’s first act, and the early exploration of the concept is at its most interesting at this point in the film. The character’s differing responses to their secrets being revealed feels like the highpoint of the thematics.

However, the plot begins to collapse under its own weight as it goes on. The conspiracy is at its most interesting when it is unexplored, and viewers will likely feel a little unfulfilled by its conclusion which fails to really land a statement about the nature of deception or criminality that has not been managed in more effective ways by films previous. It is invigorating and shocking on a first viewing, but unlikely to hold up on a second watch knowing the outcome, which fails to make the most of the setup.

The film looks fantastic for its small budget, brilliantly portraying a modern European castle as a rich person’s paradise and an ominous prison concurrently. Pascal’s manipulation of camera work also benefits the tension, offering sly misdirects and clues that will keep audiences fixated on the character’s motivations. The paranoia, terror and self-hatred of the ensemble comes through clearly in pivotal scenes.

The cast match the intensity and velocity of the plot, almost each of the principle getting the opportunity to unleash their inner ham to their heart’s content. Oris Erhuero’s Isaac and Syama Rayner’s Ester are particularly prominent in this, though far from alone. If not for the subject matter it would make for dark humour, though the otherwise seriousness and intensity of the scenes in which these occur suggest this would be unintentional. Pascal may be minded to advise his cast to tone things down just a little, particularly in the early stages where it is difficult to up stakes from. Yelling does not automatically make for great acting – and when the cast are meant to be portraying sinister, manipulative and successful people, a little more complexity would have gone a long way.

There is something strangely endearing about The Art of Telling Lies, which has a strong concept and is not afraid to engage with dark territory. It’s a daring, convoluted, enjoyable mess with an impressive aesthetic, that will definitely find an audience despite its unrefined qualities.