The Ghost

Noone does creeping unease quite like Roman Polanski, and The Ghost has numerous moments that unsettle the viewer. There are all the more effective for avoiding both bombastic action and heavy-handed jolts. Instead, there's ex-PM Adam Lang's bolthole. Isolated on a windswept island, the house has disconcerting floor-to-ceiling windows that blur the line between inside and outside.. Those inside can watch activities happening outside (a jittery Lang on the phone for instance) but conversely are themselves horribly exposed to prying eyes (watching images of themselves on TV, broadcast from the helicopter flying above the house). The interior decor includes forbiddingly large modern paintings that look more like crime scene blood spatter than art, and then there's the room of the deceased original ghostwriter, his belongings still in place. This house is more than enough to set nerves jangling.
Meanwhile, pieces gradually start to slide into place suggesting that McAra's supposed suicide was something more sinister. The opening sequence of the abandoned car on the ferry sows those first seeds of dread, while also cannily setting up one of the best sections of the film: the pre-programmed satnav taking McAra's successor on an unexpected journey. All is clearly not as it at first appeared.
Pacing is key. The set pieces are thrillingly effective but relatively understated and there's a lovely series of barbed one-liners (many from Lang's wife) that feel entirely in keeping with the characters. In fact, there's a surprising amount of humour, both verbal (the list of refuges for Lang, America aside, includes the uninspiring likes of North Korea, the key being that none of these countries recognises the International Court; Rycart commenting that "they" can't drown two ghostwriters as they're not kittens) and visual (the period dress of the sullen hotel receptionist; the Vietnamese gardener's losing battle against the combined forces of wind and sand) The culmination is a book launch reception at which the ghostwriter realizes he's actually misinterpreted the evidence. The camera follows a note passed hand to hand through the throng before panning up to the appalled expression of the recipient. And as befits such a restrained piece of storytelling, the final action takes place offscreen while the camera fixedly gazes at the street, passersby reacting to the unseen accident and sheets of paper flying past.