The Interpreter and The City of No Limits: On Secrecy

This review was published originally on cinekklesia on November 19, 2005.

Humans seem to have a habit of keeping secrets. Most of us cannot claim to live completely open lives, in which all of our virtues and vices are available for the world to see. At first blush, this may seem like a bad thing; after all, if we have nothing to hide, then why would we need to keep anything under wraps? However, a more nuanced examination of the issue reveals that not everything hidden is suspect, and even the Bible gives sanction to both openness and hiddenness. (Deciding between the two requires, of course, discernment.)

Two recent movies in my cinematic queue present the issue of hiddenness and secrecy in starkly different contexts. Sydney Pollack's The Interpreter (2005) presents secrecy as one woman's strategy for escaping her past while attempting to contribute to a greater good. Nicole Kidman plays Silvia Broome, an interpreter at the United Nations who overhears a plot to assassinate a visiting African dictator. When she reports the plot to the authorities, she comes into contact with Tobin Keller (Sean Penn), a federal agent charged with diplomatic security. As Keller investigates the plot more deeply, he realizes that Broome is not the most forthcoming bureaucrat; every turn in the investigation reveals that she is no "mere" interpreter but a white African with her own grudge against the dictator. Does her lack of forthrightness demonstrate that she is part of the plot, or does her secrecy merely demonstrate that she is trying to leave her troubled past behind and "move on" to something more positive? (As an aside, I suggest that if she had wanted to do some good for Africa, she should have worked for a private, non-profit organization, rather than a public, international bureaucracy — but I digress.)

As a movie, The Interpreter proved disappointing. I have to admit that the original television commercials drew me in (I should know better by now), and I'm usually very open to political thrillers as a sub-genre. However, a friend of mine told me that she found the film too slick and "Hollywood," and she was right. The plot had promise, but the screenwriting proved flat and mildly contrived (though Kidman and Penn did a good job with what they had). Nevertheless, I found the continual unwrapping of Broome's past interesting enough to keep me entertained. (I suppose that even mediocre mysteries can be worthwhile since they are, by definition, interactive; after all, the audience is continually "kept guessing.")

Antonio Hernández's The City of No Limits (2002)—a.k.a., En la ciudad sin límites—does a better job of tackling the theme of secrecy. Leonardo Sbaraglia plays Victor, a Spaniard who travels from Argentina (where he's working as an astrophysicist) to Paris in order to visit his ill father, who is staying at a hospital and awaiting a risky surgery. Victor's entire family has traveled from Madrid to Paris to look after the patriarch and to consult with the medical staff. When sitting by his bedside, Victor begins to suspect that his father is not "himself," that he is hiding something from the rest of the family. When he probes more deeply, his father reveals that he needs to get in touch someone named Rancel in order to tell him not to get on some train that supposedly leads to a trap. While most of the family thinks that the father is merely losing his faculties, Victor feels that he should at least investigate the claim; as he digs deeper, he learns more about his father's (and mother's) past than he could have anticipated.

I felt torn while watching The City of No Limits. As in The Interpreter, the process of finding more about the patriarch proved fascinating. Victor's steadfast search kept me highly interested, which was good because the various subplots were less than satisfying. We learn that the patriarch is not the only one who has a secret to keep; it appears that almost all of the family members have some dirty laundry that eventually gets aired out. (And, of course, all of these secrets involve sex.) It is clear that one of Hernández's overriding messages is the fact that none of us is innocent: We all have some naughtiness in our lives that we regret and of which we are ashamed. This, of course, is an ancient theme, but nevertheless one worth repeating. Hernández's message is most acute in his portrayal of Victor. The astrophysicist initially comes across as the younger, happy-go-lucky sibling, removed both geographically and emotionally from the tumultuous scandals bedeviling his family in Madrid. However, we learn that Victor, too, has some secrets in his own life, and while I lost some sympathy for him upon discovering that fact, I nevertheless acknowledge that Hernández succeeded in creating a fuller, more "realistic" character.

While both The Interpreter and The City of No Limits deal with the theme of secrets, they offer different treatments. With some exceptions, most would have sympathy with Silvia Broome and would not look upon her past with derision (especially when we see the full context of her actions). Yes, she wants to move beyond (and thus, hide) her past, but it does not appear that she has much to be ashamed of. The characters in The City of No Limits, however, maintain their secrets precisely because their past actions prove shameful, and when those secrets are revealed, scandal ensues.

So, how are Christians to deal with secrets? On the one hand, it is, of course, impossible for anybody to keep any secret completely hidden. One of the most powerful passages of Scripture deals with the exposure that all of us will experience eventually (e.g., 1 Cor. 4:5). However, Scripture also teaches us that secrecy can be a hallmark of the faithful (e.g., Mt. 6:1-18). This seeming paradox merely reminds us of the importance of context. The passage from 1 Corinthians deals with exposing "the motives of men's hearts," which is not a bad thing (though I hypothesize that such exposure will make most of us uncomfortable). The selection from Matthew, of course, deals with our responsibility to donate, pray, and fast with discretion so as not to seek the rewards of this world but rather, the reward of God. It appears that neither exposure nor secrecy have intrinsic value; only in the context of our motives can they speak of anything good or evil. It would have been nice if The Interpreter and The City of No Limits had presented this more nuanced view of secrecy.