As a storytelling tool, narration has intertwined with cinema since sound first came about. Whether film noir, flashbacks, or stressed emotional emphasis a la Terrence Malick, they’ve proven to be a bit of a double-edged sword by modern standards. And it’s easy to see why; voiceovers can often find themselves butting heads with the imagery, thwarting nuance and subtlety with a character that explains the whole damn thing. Thankfully, such a trap is avoided in Equal Measure, the sleek mystery from writer/director Michael Salmon.
Cutting to the chase with an omnipresent voice, Measure quickly establishes a tone of urbane wittiness. Jimmy Kendall (Peter McPherson), a London slickster with the sharp duds to match, overlays the audience with one detailed observation after another; akin to a career criminal scoping out a joint. The glitz, the glamour, the parties that only a pal like Gerald Windham-Wade (Guy Wah) can throw, all succulently laid out in a memory match game of mise-en-scene. Salmon, sporting a hazy romanticism to his framed edges, establishes a world that’s highly desirable in scope – the kind of shindig that Jay Gatsby would be proud to attend.
Aided by a silently floating camera that follows Jimmy’s smug activities, the film kicks things up a notch with the introduction of ravishing redhead Anna Berisford (Jessica Duncan). Channeling a cockney inflected Amy Adams, the actress goes toe-to-toe with our main character in a verbal display both pleasing and impressively assured given its indie origins. So often focus is put upon technical aspects, and it’s refreshing to find a film that maintains its professional look while tearing through some truly delicious lines.
This rooftop exchange, Sin City-esque in its visual flair, tosses about barbs dealing in heat, weather, and having “good lucks and a personality” to boot. It’s all very wry in that classically U.K. way, leaving the floodgates open for both performers to excel. Taking their tangible chemistry to the streets, the twosome continue ringing off bloody brilliant bon mots while developing a cutesy attraction seemingly genuine in spirit. Kendall, landing somewhere between Clive Owen and a spry Christoph Waltz, provides just enough narrative luster to survive Equal Measure’s rather underwhelming finale.
Picking things up the following morning, Jimmy reveals himself to be a daytime con man, hocking watches and sales-pitching locals on stuff that’s obviously low quality in content. Though it’s clearly convinced of its cleverness, as evidenced by the glitchy techno score and smug narration, it ultimately feels like a cop out to the dozen minutes that preceded it. The actor’s winning charisma remains, but the visual and narrative magic that cast its spell over the evening turned back into a pumpkin just in time to sap the film’s overall effect. Salmon has got lots of gifts as a filmmaker, and his excellent ear for dialogue is not to be missed. Judging from the fact that this it’s passed off as part 1 of a larger story, Equal Measure still has a chance to rectify this mistake. Hopefully Salmon does so next time viewers see him.