The Good Liar

Watching Ian McKellen and Helen Mirren share a screen is one of those cinematic "about damn time" moments that shouldn't have taken until 2019 to happen. We’re talking about two of the most formidable titans of the British stage and screen, finally colliding in a movie that, on the surface, looks like a cozy Sunday afternoon thriller about elderly romance and internet dating. But let me tell you, I watched this while trying to assemble a particularly stubborn IKEA shelf, and I’m pretty sure Ian McKellen’s sinister grin is the reason I ended up putting the back panel on backwards. There is a coldness under the fingernails of this movie that I didn't see coming.

Released in the twilight months of 2019, The Good Liar arrived just as the "mid-budget adult thriller" was gasping its last breaths in the theatrical market. In an era where Disney was vacuuming up every spare cent with Endgame and Star Wars, a $10 million character study felt like a relic. It’s the kind of film that, today, would be buried in the "New Releases" row of a streaming service, watched between phone scrolls. But seeing it as a piece of contemporary cinema, it’s a fascinating look at how we still crave high-stakes human drama, even if the industry isn’t quite sure how to sell it anymore.

The Long Con and the Sharp Sting

The setup is classic noir: Ian McKellen plays Roy Courtnay, a career grifter who meets Helen Mirren’s Betty McLeish on a dating site. Roy is a predatory shark in a Savile Row suit; he doesn't just want Betty's money, he wants the satisfaction of the kill. Betty is a wealthy widow, seemingly soft and vulnerable, living in a beige suburban house that screams "rob me." Roy’s plan is simple: move in, merge the bank accounts, and disappear.

What I loved about the first half of this film is the sheer procedural joy of the grift. Bill Condon, who previously directed McKellen to an Oscar nomination in Gods and Monsters, lets the camera linger on the mechanics of Roy’s various scams. We see him running a side-hustle involving fraudulent investment schemes with his partner-in-crime, played by Jim Carter (yes, Carson from Downton Abbey is breaking bad here). Ian McKellen is clearly having the time of his life playing a man who is essentially a human personification of a '404 Error'—he is whatever you want him to be, provided it helps him steal your pension.

However, the film takes a sharp, jagged turn in the final act. It shifts from a light-fingered caper into something much darker, involving secrets from the Second World War and a tonal pivot that left many critics feeling whiplashed. Personally, I found the shift daring, even if it’s a bit clunky. It moves from a "cat and mouse" game to a "who is actually the cat?" scenario, and while the logic gets a bit strained, Mirren handles the transition with her signature icy brilliance.

A Relic of the "In-Between" Era

There’s a specific kind of "Contemporary Obscurity" that happens to films like The Good Liar. It didn't fail at the box office—it actually tripled its budget—but it has almost entirely evaporated from the cultural conversation. Why? Because it’s a film that demands you pay attention to the dialogue rather than the spectacle. In the age of franchise fatigue, we often complain that "they don't make movies for grown-ups anymore," yet when they do, we often let them slip through the cracks.

Interestingly, the film uses de-aging technology during a pivotal flashback sequence to show Roy and Betty in their youth. In 2019, this was the "it" technology, with Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman dominating the headlines for the same trick. Here, it’s used more sparingly, but it serves as a reminder of the era’s obsession with looking backward while moving forward. It’s a film about the weight of history, filmed with the tools of the future.

The supporting cast is equally sharp. Russell Tovey (from Years and Years) plays Betty’s grandson, Steven, and he serves as the audience surrogate—the only person in the room who seems to realize that Roy is about as trustworthy as a chocolate teapot. The tension between Tovey and McKellen provides the film's most grounded moments, acting as a buffer against the more melodramatic flourishes of the plot.

Stuff You Didn't Notice

One of the more interesting behind-the-scenes tidbits is that despite their decades-long careers and mutual respect, Mirren and McKellen had never actually worked together on a film before this. They did a Broadway run of The Dance of Death in the early 2000s, but this was their celluloid debut as a duo.

You can also feel the influence of composer Carter Burwell (a frequent Coen Brothers collaborator) in the score. He avoids the typical "thriller" stings and instead opts for something that feels slightly off-kilter and mischievous. It’s a score that tells you you’re being lied to long before the characters do. Also, keep an eye out for the location work; the film moves from the claustrophobic London suburbs to the sleek streets of Berlin, emphasizing the "European thriller" vibe that felt so prevalent in the mid-2010s.

Ultimately, The Good Liar is a sturdy, well-acted piece of entertainment that perhaps tries a little too hard to be "important" in its final twenty minutes. It starts as a delightful romp about a bad man doing bad things and ends as a grim meditation on vengeance and the persistence of evil. While that tonal leap might not land for everyone, it’s worth the price of admission just to see Mirren and McKellen trade barbs over tea and biscuits. If you’re looking for a thriller that respects your intelligence and doesn't involve a single cape or explosion, this is a lie worth believing. Just don't expect to feel particularly warm and fuzzy when the credits roll.