Venice 2024: Series Better Than Movies #1 - Disclaimer
Saturday, August 31, 2024 at 11:30AM 
Alfonso Cuarón, behind the scenes of DISCLAIMER | © Apple TV+
From the moment the Venice lineup was announced, it was clear that this year, the festival was betting heavily on TV. The impression was that the quality was high enough to justify their inclusion and the commitment to watch long episodes, even at the expense of film screenings. Early viewings have confirmed this prediction. In these diaries from the Lido, I can already tell you that at least two series will make headlines. The first one is:
DISCLAIMER by Alfonso Cuarón
When it comes to TV series, Alfonso Cuarón proves to be the dream director for a platform like Apple TV+…
Disclaimer fits seamlessly into Apple’s programming lineup, which seems to specialize in certain genres and themes. One of the most prominent is that of the unreliable narrator, guiding us through the unraveling of a crime, legal case, or thriller—not necessarily to uncover the truth, but to correctly interpret the facts presented to us. Series like Sugar, Criminal Records, Presumed Innocent, and Defending Jacob share this approach, blurring the lines between crime, police procedural, and thriller. The key is to follow the narrative to the end, listen closely to what the voiceover tells us, and try to discern whether we can trust it or not.
Cuarón takes this narrative convention and makes it so explicit, so evident, that Disclaimer becomes an evolved form of its premise. Prhaps, it's something entirely new, a high-brow version of the narrative trick that was the premise of a pop phenomenon like Gossip Girl. A female voice, whose identity remains unknown, narrates (and comments) the story in a voiceover, using the traditional third person for all characters—guiding and sometimes cruelly mocking them—except for Catherine Ravenscroft (Cate Blanchett), where it switches to the second person.
Cate Blanchett in DISCLAIMER | © Apple TV+
What makes Disclaimer even more powerful is its timing: it will hit our screens just a few years after TÁR, featuring the same leading actress. Here, Cate Blanchett almost retraces the tragic downfall of Lydia Tár in her portrayal of this woman. A respected investigative journalist with an impeccable reputation, Catherine lives in luxury, adored by her lawyer husband, whom she instinctively protects. She longs to connect with her son, Jonathan (Kodi Smit-McPhee), now a young adult seemingly on the path to failure.
Another young adult appears at the beginning of Disclaimer, but his future seems far brighter. Louis Partridge plays Jonathan, a young Englishman who arrives in Italy with his girlfriend for a grand tour during his gap year. However, he never returns from Italy, causing his mother's death from heartbreak and leading his father, Stephen Brigstocke (Kevin Kline), to lose his human façade completely, turning into a wolf. After abandoning his teaching career - disgusted by his young student’s attitude - Stephen becomes a cynical and bitter widower. While donating the belongings of his deceased wife, he stumbles upon a manuscript and photos that not only explain his loved one’s strange behavior before her death but also suggest that his son's demise may not have been as accidental as it seemed.
Kevin Kline in DISCLAIMER | © Apple TV+
Disclaimer is the story of a revenge driven by a series of photographs and fueled by the power of the written word. Stephen's goal is to destroy the life of the person he holds responsible for his son's death. What follows is Catherine's chaotic, painful downfall, laced with biting irony. Persecutor and victim are strikingly similar; both are sharper than average, both are protective of their family members (whom they sometimes judge harshly), and neither shies away from using violence and manipulation to attack or defend themselves.
At the heart of the story lies a mystery that refuses to fully reveal itself. There's a novel that imagines what happened to Jonathan, and pictures that clearly point in one direction, but the only witness is Catherine, who is visibly reluctant to speak—especially when she feels cornered by Stephen.
In its simplest form, Disclaimer is yet another cautionary tale about how our biases and expectations filter reality before we're even aware of it, leading us to believe that our interpretation is the unquestionable truth. Catherine's slow descent, as she loses her marriage, prestige, job, and son, allows Cuarón to weave a socially charged commentary, delightfully malicious in its delivery. Once again, we're plunged into a corporate world where the protection of everyone's safety against abuse quickly turns into an opportunity to humiliate and tear someone apart, isolating the individual in distress.
The roles of victim and perpetrator will only be fully revealed in the grand finale, where both arrive armed, with bared teeth, ready to strike. This conclusion includes a particularly brutal scene that sets off a domino effect, forcing viewers to reassess the entire series in a new light. Characters who once seemed pathetic gain value and humanity, and every single action of the protagonist must be reevaluated within this new framework.
Kodi Smit-McPhee in DISCLAIMER | © Apple TV+
In this respect, Cuarón does a remarkable job. The way the camera hovers over the characters from above, inventing daring perspectives (like the subjective view from a phone that distorts Kodi Smit-McPhee's face as he scrolls through social media), or creating a constant sense of manipulation on multiple levels, is commendable. The increasingly hallucinatory nature of the sound design throughout the episodes also deserves special mention. There's the malfunctioning refrigerator fan that leaks from scenes set in the kitchen into flashbacks of the past, blending with the beeping of life-support machines and other sounds that "pierce" the present, becoming persistent presences in the narrative. These elements remind us that this is a story being told—that someone behind the camera and keyboard is deciding what we should see and what we should not.
The cast is, predictably, another point of pride. Cate Blanchett truly shines only in the grand finale, as her character initially takes a back seat. The real star of the show is Kevin Kline, whose grief has consumed him so thoroughly that he becomes a creature of terrifyingly cynical irony, a shapeshifter who deceives everyone except the victim of his plot. Kodi Smit-McPhee is also notable in his portrayal of a pathetic, failed young adult, who, despite being arrogant, knows he falls short of his parents' success. Yet, he doesn’t hesitate to manipulate in turn, prolonging his parasitic existence under their wing.
Reader Comments (2)
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