The Gift

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. So goes the old adage. It’s tossed about frequently but the origins of its meaning probably aren’t thought about these days. It’s has nothing to do with being bitten by an ornery equine, rather it’s a suggestion that you don’t scrutinise the teeth of the horse you’ve just been given for free. It’s a free horse, come on. Show some class.

The first thing that Simon (Jason Bateman) does when he and wife Robyn (Rebecca Hall) receive a housewarming gift from the socially maladjusted Gordo (played with quiet hesitation by Joel Edgerton) is to look the horse straight in the mouth, and right through into the head of its provider. Simon remembers that Gordo was known at school as Gordo the Weirdo. It’s infantile and laughable but an odd fact to recall. Robyn insists he’s just a little awkward, and that she’s the same in social situations too. She thinks maybe they should give him a break, invite him to dinner, say thank you for the thoughtful gift.

When Gordo visits, he remarks that Simon was nicknamed Simple Simon, because everyone did as he said, his school presidency campaign was run on the line “Simon Says…” and whatever Simon wants, Simon gets. It’s hard to disagree with either character here. Simon’s definitely got what he wants, and Gordo is a bit of a weirdo. What starts out as a routine thriller about a pair of yuppies being forced to acknowledge the less fortunate people they’ve met on the way up becomes a terse psychological film that scrapes away at the middle class shine that people lacquer over their past indiscretions.

This is Joel Edgerton’s directorial debut, and it’s a striking and muscular film, with strong themes and an adept eye for tension. The unease starts when Robyn finds herself stalked by Gordo, or at least that appears to be the cast. He turns up whilst she stays at home and recuperates from the mysterious episode that saw her and Simon leave Chicago, but Gordo seems to bear no ill will towards her. Slowly she realises that Simon’s past isn't all what it seems, and there’s a sense of dread and anxiousness here that will keep you doubting characters' intentions and motivations in a masterful way.

Jason Bateman slips easily into the role of a successful and remorseless yuppie, drawing on his work in Arrested Development where eagle eyed viewers quickly caught on to the fact that he wasn’t really any better than his diabolical family. Here, he swaggers and mocks with a contemptuous pride, and it’s hard to side with him even when Gordo is clearly hiding something. Edgerton is no slouch either, combining a terrible haircut and a quiet, damaged persona which makes it easy to forgot he’s famous for playing heavily built, masculine hunks. The malice he brings with him isn’t one of physical danger, but of a mental scalpel threatening to prise away the layers of fastidious half-truths that Simon has built his life on, and that Robyn finds herself trapped in.

Rather than submit to playing a damsel in distress, Rebecca Hall plays Robyn with a fraught but compassionate turn. She’s willing to believe in Gordo, but her oppressive husband and Gordo’s quirky, lap-dog mannerisms find her struggling to come to any absolute judgements. Edgerton’s writing and directing manage to steer elegantly around cliche for the majority of the film and questions frequently go unanswered. Simon’s cut throat approach to climbing the ranks at the security firm he works for mean that he’s not without his enemies, and Robyn finds herself adrift in a suburban fever dream of lost dogs and strange gifts.

The upturning of the yuppie dream has been done before, and in particular The Gift feels like a love letter to Haneke’s Cache (Hidden), asking us to consider how much or indeed how little force it takes to topple a tower of lies. Do the ends ever really justify the dubious means that people knowingly or unknowningly use to get there? Should we apologise for past mistakes of our naive younger selves? Tiny details litter the film and reinforce suspicions, from Gordo’s curious use of childish smiley faces in his notes, to Simon’s fear of monkeys and the tiny glances of disdain he begins to shoot at his wife’s acts of compassion rather than his old schoolmate’s odd mannerisms.

Like Cache, this tale has a particularly poisonous sting. A revelation delivered with a resounding thud designed to turn stomachs, it’s a difficult twist to parse without feeling ugly by association as you put together the pieces alongside the recipient of the terminal gift. Instead of falling into the trap of making a thriller with easily defined characters, Edgerton has made a film that understands how devastating uncertainty is, something that comprehends the insidious nature of lies and half-truths. The Gift is laser focused and surprising, a ship steered by a moral compass that struggles to find true north. It will have you shifting uneasily in your seat for hours.