Ralph Fiennes is in Voldermort mode as private dermatologist David, a thoroughly nasty piece of work. He is driving through the Moroccan desert on the way to a party thrown by some friends at their massive ornate holiday home. He's a high-functioning alcoholic and, lost in the dark of the desert, drunk, driving too fast and quarrelling with his much younger wife, he fails to see a young fossil seller step into the road ahead of him. The boy, Driss, is killed instantly.David's response is that the boy was a nobody, but soon his father turns up at the party to claim the body, the police having accepted that it was a tragic accident. He wants David to go back with him to attend the burial, which David reluctantly agrees to do. Meanwhile, the rest of the Europeans and Americans party on without him, including his cocaine-snorting wife.Unusually the credits are at the start of the film, allowing it to end with a sudden blank screen. It didn't feel exactly subtle with its contrasts between monied westerners and the locals who scratch a living in the desert (One dreams of moving to Sweden), but it's powerful and well worth seeing. Oh, and it looks great.
Susan Kelly ● 1500d