Cate Blanchett delivers an “increasingly frantic” performance in this “riveting” revenge thriller

In Apple TV+'s latest star-studded drama, the Oscar winner plays a famous journalist who is terrorized by a vengeful man with the help of a self-published novel. It's intelligent and beautifully shot.

In Alfonso Cuarón's most dazzling films, including children of menHe trusts that his audience will follow his lead, no matter how convoluted the narrative path may be. This approach is expressed in Disclaimer, a twisted series that explores the eternal yet timely theme of fiction vs. reality. Cate Blanchett plays the exciting role of Catherine Ravenscroft, a famous investigative journalist who is anonymously sent a novel in which she is clearly a scandalous figure. Disclaimer has nothing new to say about how our imaginations fill in the gaps in reality, but Cuarón and Blanchett make the series a compelling, intelligent adventure.

Cuarón wrote and directed all seven episodes, slowing down the pace from its source, Renée Knight's 2015 novel. The story races back and forth in time, gradually filling in the details, at first with a certain deliberateness Confusion. We see a young couple having sex on a train traveling through Europe, but we don't yet know who it is. We soon meet a retired London teacher with the appropriately fussy name of Stephen Brigstocke, played with devilish glee by Kevin Kline. Stephen has just discovered a novel written by his late wife. Recognizing Catherine in it, he self-publishes the book under a pseudonym and sends it to her, modifying the disclaimer normally found in fiction to read: “Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is permitted.” not a coincidence.”

Catherine isn't the most challenging role Blanchett has ever played, but she's hugely convincing as always, increasing Catherine's desperation with every turn of Stephen's screw as he threatens to ruin her life. He blames her for a tragedy that touched him and, in revenge, sends her photos that are even more explosive than the novel. Blanchett controls the performance beautifully. Catherine becomes increasingly panicked, but remains compassionate in her desperation, no matter how badly she may have behaved – or not – years ago.

Kline plays Stephen with great precision. He is full of grief for his wife, who died nine years ago, and walks around in her worn pink cardigan. But he is also mean towards his former students. As his plan continues, we see him disguise himself as a pathetic old man when it suits him, only to turn his back and flash a mischievous grin that gives the game away. Stephen becomes reprehensible, but Kline is always fascinating to watch. Kodi Smit-McPhee is touching as Catherine's aimless, unhappy son. The miscast Sacha Baron Cohen plays her husband Robert with what appears to be an incredibly bad wig. His stiff performance makes Robert more of a gullible idiot than he should be.

The first section of the series describes the revenge plan and Catherine's efforts to find Stephen and then silence him. Much of the middle section consists of flashbacks, and many of them take place in Italy. There, great cinematographers Emmanuel Lubezki and Bruno Delbonnel create a gauzy, alluring look, but make even the rainiest London days look radiant.

Lesley Manville is heartbreaking as Stephen's wife Nancy, who falls into a permanent depression after the death of their teenage son Jonathan (Louis Partridge). Other flashbacks play scenes from Nancy's novel, starring Leila George as the younger Catherine. This middle section is also the sexy part of the show, a reminder that Cuarón has always been a master of simmering eroticism Y Tu Mamá También (2001). Here he brings words and looks to the boil. But Nancy can't possibly have experienced everything she brings to the novel, and Cuarón's story becomes even more exciting.

In the voiceover, we often hear Stephen explaining his plans, a first-person narrative that works because he seems to be addressing us, making us accomplices in his plan. But an alternating narration from Catherine's point of view, in which a disembodied voice (Indira Varma) addresses her as “You”, is simply annoying. When a distraught Catherine looks into the mirror after reading the novel, we hear: “You’ve seen this face before. You hoped never to see it again. Your mask has fallen.” Blanchett lets us see what Catherine feels. There is no need to explain their thoughts.

Narrators are unreliable and memories are subjective, both in fiction and reality. Why some of the characters in “Disclaimer” take so long to figure this out is a mystery. But that hardly matters, as Cuarón leads us through this always fascinating labyrinth of possibilities.

The Disclaimer is now available internationally on Apple TV+