Named after a typical disclaimer attached to works of fiction that claim that any similarities to persons living or dead are coincidental, Disclaimer is the newest Apple TV+ miniseries. This show stars Academy Award winner Cate Blanchett as Catherine Ravenscroft, a journalist who discovers a newly published novel that reveals all the darkest secrets of her past. As more people read the story, she must prevent the book and the truths behind it from tearing her family apart. This show is a spellbinding masterpiece told in seven parts, with a quality of storytelling that will captivate you.
This studio has had a habit of bringing exceptional talent to its films and shows. Whether it’s Gary Oldman headlining Slow Horses or the recent Jake Gyllenhaal-led series Presumed Innocent, there’s no shortage of big names on Apple TV+. While Disclaimer has no shortage of well-known faces, what drew me the most to this show was the face behind the camera. Alfonso Cuarón writes and directs every episode of this magnificent series. He has had a remarkable track record, helming movies like Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Y tu mamá también, Children of Men, Gravity, and Roma. All of his cinematic techniques are on full display in this show, which makes full use of his talents.
Based on Renée Knight’s novel, Cuarón crafts an unforgettable experience. He’s a meticulous filmmaker, and no detail is left to waste. Each episode is named after a Roman numeral, similar to what we see in a novel. Throughout the series, we get a third-person narrator who details more about what each character is thinking and what made them into the person they are. While narration is a tool easily misused in screenwriting, Cuarón allows it to enhance every moment, allowing us a look into the lives of our characters so detailed that we could be reading it from a book.
The opening episode does a beautiful job of establishing each character. Catherine wins an award for her work exposing the transgressions of others. She revels in her joy, not knowing that she’s about to be the victim of a similar character assassination. It can sometimes feel disorienting because there are many characters and storylines. We have a young couple named Jonathan (Louis Partridge) and Sasha (Liv Hill) on a picturesque vacation, we have Catherine and her relationship with her husband and son, and we have an elderly man named Stephen Brigstocke (Kevin Kline).
The disorienting nature is the first episode’s key asset. Audience members continually engage with the episode, trying to figure out how everything connects. Everything begins to come into place once we note a newly published book called “The Perfect Stranger,” which quickly takes the town by storm. When Catherine reads it, it affects her deeply, and by the end of I, we have a sense of how everything connects, along with dozens of questions about where this could go next. And if you weren’t sure how everything connected in I, II drills everything home.
I can’t speak highly enough about Disclaimer’s nonlinear structure, employed in the first episode and throughout the show. It follows the same characters often at multiple points in their lives. The timeline remains easy to understand, and by structuring the story this way, we get a deeper sense of how each character is intertwined, and our perception of these characters evolves a lot. It’s just complex enough not to be confusing, and like the best TV series, it keeps its cards close to its chest before revealing them one by one until they are all on the table.
Cuarón’s filmmaking signature is evident throughout this series. He employs many long takes, a splendid tool for allowing the actors’ performances to take shape. No long take is easy to pull off behind the scenes, and he makes it look effortless. With every tremendous long take comes a shot-reverse-shot scene that he makes just as engaging. The camerawork is often so assured that whenever he changes into a more documentary-esque style or gives us a handheld Dutch tilt, you feel the power in these choices. His style is as accessible as a sunny scene becoming cloudier once upsetting news is revealed.
Every creative choice he makes is designed to be obvious enough for an audience to pick up on. Rather than burying his details in the weeds, he makes every bit of this story understandable and never diminishes the emotional conflict at the beating heart of this story. The symbolism of a cockroach trapped under glass and a bowl full of fish heads can also be left for interpretation. With filmmaking so precise and exquisite, Disclaimer is the latest case in blurring the line between film and TV as a medium from a craftsmanship perspective.
With each episode, we get a deeper glimpse into each character. It’s a genuinely thought-provoking narrative riddled with tragedy. Disclaimer is a show about a family slowly getting torn apart as the past eats away at them. Behind every event is another broken family that has been unable to live on after tragedy struck them. Each character plays an influential role in the events that unfold, and each moment is essential in understanding our characters’ struggles, who they used to be, and how that affects them now. It’s heartbreaking sometimes, and every moment is handled with brilliant care.
Blanchett is incredible in this series as a character performing several dishonorable actions. The biggest surprise is Sacha Baron Cohen as Catherine’s husband, Robert. Cohen is one of the funniest actors to grace the big screen with his work as Borat, Ali G, and Brüno. But in all honesty, I didn’t recognize him for the entire first episode. This is a purely serious role for Cohen, and it’s not easy either. His character is going through immense pain, and he displays every bit of it. Kodi Smit-McPhee does a beautiful job as Nicholas, the son you are supposed to pity and sometimes cringe at.
Kline gives a show-stopper of a performance. He’s one of the most prolific actors of all time, and yet, he’s unrecognizable here. Some of it is the accent, but he gets to play a character with darkness, grief, and a touch of fun. Leila George does a superb job emulating the younger version of Catherine. She isn’t doing an impression of Blanchett, mainly because her iteration of Catherine has a vastly different personality. Every performance is exceptionally crafted to where the ending feels earned, surprising, and inevitable.
Cuarón also uses iris shots in Disclaimer as part of the storytelling language. His usage often feels ironic, as if he is decorating a story with all its peachy keen frills. As the series continues and we get the fuller picture, he uses them less and less. This is the best show of the year, featuring brilliantly written turns and characters pushed to their breaking points. And right when you think you’ve got everything figured out, Disclaimer pulls the rug out from under you. With this new miniseries, this filmmaker proves once again that he is an unstoppable force.
SCORE: 10/10
As ComingSoon’s review policy explains, a score of 10 equates to “Masterpiece.” This is the rare release that transcends genre and must be experienced by all fans of the medium.
Disclaimer: ComingSoon received screeners for our Disclaimer review. Any similarity to reviews past or present is purely coincidental.
