cine + octo = boo

There is more to The Invention of Lying than you’d expect, but not in a sensational way. Confused? Allow me to explain. A cursory viewing of the trailer led me to believe that this film would be yet another misfire — a decent premise wrapped up in a series of trite cliches. Underwhelming at best.

Yet, the vehicle was co-written by Ricky Gervais, so I bit. I’m glad I did.

With Invention…, Gervais is clearly borrowing from some of the territory Woody Allen cut his teeth on. Situational humor, satirical comedy, and the making of the socially aware funny. Sure, he even goes as far as borrowing the trademark Allen font for a very Woody-esque title card heavy opening to the film, but what unfolds is something uniquely Gervais — recklessly critical, yet deftly balanced.

Gervais plays Mark Bellison, an everyman living in a world

not unlike our own, but with one crucial difference. Bellison and his cohabitants are incapable of lying. In fact, this world doesn’t even appear to have a word for the act of deception. Instead, everyone speaks the truth. Brutally so.

Otherwise secretive acts become commonplace discussion points. When picking Anna McDoogles (Jennifer Garner) up for a blind date, she openly confesses to being disappointed at his early arrival because he’d interrupted her while masturbating. She expresses her distaste for the evening, freely letting him know time and again that she does not find him attractive.

Mark’s love life is not the only part of his life made more disparaging by society’s honesty. Work is made all the more troublesome, as everyone is fully aware that Mark’s boss Anthony (Jeffrey Tambor) intends to fire him, but has been stalling because he doesn’t do well with confrontation.

As our narrator (Gervais) discloses from the start, being a loser isn’t any easier in a society that can’t soften the blow through lies. This is a world where movies are historical readings of factual events (without the ability to lie, acting and fiction become an impossibility), old folks homes are adorned with signs reading “A Sad Place Where Homeless Old People Come to Die,” and neighbors openly discuss their failed attempts at suicide in the elevator each morning.

Then, it clicks. When faced with eviction and only $300 in his bank account to pay his $800 rent, Mark has an epiphany. His bank teller informs him that their system is down, so they can only handle withdraws. For whatever reason, Mark tells the teller that he has $800 in his account, and she takes his word for it.

From this point on, Mark has a power unlike any other, and the potential for corruption is seemingly lurking at every turn. For Mark Bellison, abuse is the last thing on his mind. Sure, he manipulates the system in his favor, but when faced with the opportunity to gain 100% physical gratification through deception, his true character shines through and he pulls back from the brink.

What opens as an interesting social satire wrapped in a character study suddenly takes a welcomed

turn toward critical skewering. A series of events places Mark in the global spotlight, and we find ourselves at the core of Gervais’ conceit — this study suggests that the ability to lie and the existence of religion go hand in hand.

Without ruining what is, perhaps, the defining moment of the film, I will skip to the conclusion. If the razor sharp analysis of modern religion is at the chewy center of The Invention of Lying, the entire package is wrapped in a rather sweet search for companionship amidst a harsh environment that cannot help but be anything but cruel. The film felt like it raced to a conclusion, but it was an inevitable one so I can’t really fault it there.

The Invention of Lying may not be showered by critical attention at the moment, but it’s still worth a look.

4 stars