Mike Leigh Series

Moment after moment, scene after scene, “Secrets & Lies” unfolds with the fascination of eavesdropping. We are waiting to see what these people will do next, caught up in the fear and the hope that they will bring the whole fragile network of their lives crashing down in ruin. When they prevail–when common sense and good hearts win over lies and secrets–we feel almost as relieved as if it had happened to ourselves.

Mike Leigh‘s best films work like that. He finds a rhythm of life–not “real life,” but real life as fashioned and shaped by all the art and skill his actors can bring to it–and slips into it, so that we are not particularly aware we’re watching a film; he has a scene here, set at a backyard barbecue, that shows exactly how family gatherings are sometimes a process of tiptoeing through minefields. One wrong word, and the repressed resentments of decades will blow up in everyone’s face.

It would be easy, but wrong, to describe the plot of “Secrets & Lies” as being about an adopted black woman in London who seeks out her natural birth mother, discovers the woman is white, and arranges to meet her. That would be wrong because it sidesteps the real subject of the film, which is that the mother and her family have been all but destroyed by secrets and lies. The young black woman is the catalyst to change that situation, yes, but her life was fine before the action starts and will continue on an even keel afterward…  I have admired the work of Mike Leigh ever since 1972, when his “Bleak Moments” premiered in the Chicago Film Festival. For many years he was an outcast from British cinema; it’s hard to get financing when you don’t have a script or even the idea for a film, but Leigh stubbornly persisted in his method of gathering actors and working with them to create the story. In the 1970s and 1980s, he worked mostly in London theater and for the BBC, and then came “High Hopes” (1988), “Life Is Sweet”, “Secrets and Lies,” which won the Palme d’Or at Cannes, is a flowering of his technique. It moves us on a human level, it keeps us guessing during scenes as unpredictable as life (the visit, for example, of the former owner of the photography studio), and it shows us how ordinary people have a chance of somehow coping with their problems, which are rather ordinary, too. – Roger Ebert