On paper, I’m a big fan of this one. The unexpected death of a psychiatrist’s patient kick-starts a murder mystery. It’s a thriller in which reality and relationships are called into question. A series of small crimes, the burglary of her clinic, tells Jodie Foster she’s on the right track as she digs deeper into the family life of her deceased patient. Are the clues hidden in the sessions they’d shared?
Sadly, I didn’t love it. Foster’s acting was amazing, but the script wasn’t convincing to me. Her character goes off the rails too quickly, too completely. I never quite believed that this grown-up, serious professional would be raving about visions of 1940s Paris. Nor that the characters around her would accept her madness with a casual Gallic shrug.