Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Pack of Lies (1987), Directed by Anthony Page

By Fearless Young Orphan

I must be jaded or spoiled; something inside me feels awkward about recommending a film that doesn’t have anything to recommend it save for good performances and a solid script. Uh, what? Shouldn’t those be two perfectly good reasons to recommend a film – just about the best two of all? Well yes, but what I am talking about here is a 1987 TV movie starring middle-aged people in a dowdy lower-middle-class British neighborhood; it has no special effects, few scenes outside of one family’s small home, there is nary a gunfight, barely a soundtrack, the whole thing looks washed out and stagey (it is in fact based on a stage play), there is no sex, and the thrust of the story is the friendship between two women and how it is destroyed by some unexpected patriotic allegiances. So no, there’s no flash or dazzle in Pack of Lies. It doesn’t have the draw of being a well-known classic. I wouldn’t have watched it myself except for its fitting into the Spy Films genre for my website, so how enthusiastic can I actually sound? Here’s the thing: it’s a film that drew me on the basis of strong characters and identifiable emotions, and left me feeling strangely moved. Ellen Burstyn is the main reason for this. She is an actress who has never feared an unglamorous role, and she puts that fearlessness into the heart of her role as a woman who never expected to be challenged with an ethical decision and finds that she does not have the tools for it.

I have been going on and on without telling you what the hell happens in the movie, so let’s fix that. The year is 1961 and in said lower-middle-class British neighborhood lives Barbara Jackson (Burstyn) with her clerical-looking husband Bob and her mildly rebellious teenage daughter Julie. Barbara is a housewife in early middle-age, who has never been nor has ever aspired to be anything else, typical for the era.

Over the past three years, the Jacksons have made close friends with their cross- street neighbors, the Schaefers. Childless, Helen (Teri Garr) and Peter Shaefer are a little more adventurous and boisterous than the Jacksons but the friendship is a good fit, and Helen has particularly captured Barbara’s adoration. Helen is just the kind of friend that everybody wants: funny, encouraging, light-hearted, a bit daring, throwing safe challenges in Barbara’s direction. Buy yourself a negligee. Take an art class with me. Come out for a day shopping. By the time we join the story, Barbara considers Helen her best friend and also appreciates the fact that Julie, who has adopted the standard teen-rule that parents are specifically out to ruin her fun, will confide things to Helen and listen to Helen’s advice, which Helen will then dutifully report to Barbara. Probably having been a wallflower most of her life, Barbara is enchanted by the Helen’s brightness, as if she can hardly believe that she finally has a “cool” friend.

One night the Jacksons are interrupted by an unexpected visitor, a Mr. Stewart (Alan Bates) from the National Security Agency. He asks the Jacksons a big favor: his agency is investigating a man who makes occasional visits to their neighborhood, and might he please borrow one of their windows for the weekend so he can spy on the neighborhood? The Jacksons don’t want this man in their house any more than you or I would, but they understand it’s their “patriotic” duty and allow him to do so. Odd – Mr. Stewart’s focus during that weekend seems to be entirely on the Schaefers’ house across the street.

A weekend of watching turns into two weeks of watching, which turns into a month of watching, which puts Barbara and Bob out of their own bedroom and has them keeping secrets from their daughter. “It’s best not to tell anyone what is going on,” says Stewart, meaning that it is not only “best” but also “essential.” The strain of keeping people in her home on round-the-clock stakeout begins to show on Barbara’s face, plus she’s being forced to lie about it to everyone she cares for. This is not a woman who has ever had the need to lie for any reason.

Playing the role with deceptive bubbly-ness, Teri Garr is actually quite shrewd as intuitive Helen, who knows something is wrong with her friend. Barbara would really, really like to tell Helen, except that the situation is becoming ever stranger. This mysterious man who comes and goes from their neighborhood at odd intervals seems to be using the Schaefers’ home exclusively. When he is around, the Schaefers become unavailable even for the most hot-ticket dinner parties (excitement!). Barbara maintains that if this man is a spy, then Helen and Peter can surely know nothing about it.

Not so, says Mr. Stewart. They know everything.

There is a shift in the tone of the investigation over time, happening with such underhanded subtlety that the Jacksons are dumbstruck by the fact that they no longer have any choice concerning activities in their own home. The National Security Agency has subverted their civil rights – politely, of course – in favor of catching Communist spies. I can’t remember if they ever actually use those words, but if not, then we’re all still pretty clear about the ideologies.

Rather than turning into a spy adventure, however, the story turns inward and focuses instead squarely on Barbara Jackson, who reacts to this situation with disbelief. Helen is her best friend, not a spy. Surely they’re not saying that her best friend has been nothing more than a deep cover agent? These are women who have spent the last three years seeing each other every day. Okay okay, maybe Helen could be a spy, but she hasn’t been faking friendship, has she? Barbara cannot accept it. The investigation is leading to a climax and Barbara finds herself emotionally wrecked. Of course she believes in National Security and patriotism, but more to the point, there is a woman she believes to be her best friend who is in imminent danger of arrest and God-knows-what afterward.

There are a lot of questions you can ask yourself at the end of this film. You can put yourself in Barbara’s place and try to imagine what you would do. I am not sure anyone can ever really know what they would do until they are in the middle of a thing, but it is an exceedingly thorny question nevertheless. I can’t say that this is film is a joy to sit through; it looks dated, it feels a little hokey. Then again, it whips around sometimes and is riveting, even a bit brutal. This is not the viewpoint of a spy or a secret agent but of somebody who might live across the street from one, care about one, and have no idea what a messy place her world is. By what I have said, I think you can guess whether or not this movie is up your alley. If it’s not, then at least be aware of its existence. Pack of Lies deserves recognition for being there.