Slickly edited

Set in post-war Bosnia, The Whistleblower highlights the dangerous reality of corruption and intrigue

Rachel Weisz is a brilliant actress and has always been so, though we don’t see her often these days. But she’s back in another stellar role as an American police officer, who opts for work in post-war`A0Bosnia. It is the dangerous reality of corruption and intrigue amid a world of private contractors and multi-national diplomatic doubletalk that masquerades under the hallowed title of United Nations.

Based on real-life incidents faced by Kathy Belkovac (Weisz) in Bosnia, scriptwriters Larysa Kondracki and Eilis Kirman have taken a few liberties to create a gripping, heart-wrenching story of exploitation in the world’s oldest profession.

As an American police officer, Rachel Weisz gives a stellar performance in  The Whistleblower

To start with, Kathy is saying goodbye to her teenage daughter (Kathy has gone through two unsuccessful marriages) whom we never see again while hearing from her ex-husband (never seen again too) that he never expected this raw deal from her. It was her devotion to duty that probably came in the way of a happy family life. Which came first, the chicken or the egg is a matter of conjecture and we shall also refrain from getting into issue because it is just a red herring to take us to that dreaded war-torn land of Bosnia, which has been experiencing a hell on earth with ethnic rivalries (Serbs and Bosnians) and an invading superpower while the world, at large, was oblivious to it.

From then on, director Larysa Kondraki unfolds the sordid tale of man’s inhumanity to his fellow men layer by layer as one goes into the mire of horror and treachery.

"Sometimes steeping back is part of the job," Kathy is told by her superior Peter Ward (David Statharn) using casuistry no doubt in a lawless and unfeeling land where getting a conviction for domestic felony is the impossible dream.

Kathy is an attractive, even beautiful woman, a flaring contrast from the young girls in various stages of dereliction. Their silent, stunned faces speak more eloquently than words. Slick editing and not dwelling overmuch on these ghastly scenes helps because often less is more.

The women in the flesh trade with brief cameos give us a graphic picture of the physical and psychological torture (most of it off screen, thankfully) and cinematographer Kieran McGuigan does a good job glossing over the bizarre but the impact is, nonetheless cathartic. And ageing Vanessa Redgrave, like so many other prima donnas, has a fleeting cameo but the film belongs to Karel Reisz and director Larysa Kondraki, two women who achieve more by their work than empty women’s lib gibberish. It is a rare jewel, so don’t miss The Whistleblower for anything.

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