Möbius

Saying one thing but meaning another: that’s the world of espionage, one of half-truths, omitted details, and fervent misdirection. International banker Alice Redmond (Cécile De France, The Kid with a Bike) is immersed in the shifting sands of global spies, delving undercover to catch Russian mogul Ivan Rostovsky (Tim Roth, Broken) in shady business dealings, and attempting to earn her passage back into American trading in the process. Working for post-KGB security outfit FSB, secret agent Gregory Liobov (Jean Dujardin, The Monuments Men) watches their dalliance, but can’t keep his distance. His infatuation with Alice, who has her own messy backstory, complicates the many layers of underhanded sleuthing.

‘Sounds like anything could happen,’ George – under the assumed name of Moïse – flirtatiously tells Alice when they first converse, their banter coming after an evening of longing glances. Of course, in writer/director Eric Rochant’s thriller, the opposite proves the outcome. Heavy with plot machinations, but light on surprises, his film weaves its intricacy into a web of convolution. Its title, Möbius, was evidently selected to indicate the ever-returning nature of the events at hand, but perhaps best represents the feature’s tendency to clumsily loop back in on itself.

Möbius unfurls with ample slickness, its staging swapping between shadowy and shiny in its Monaco setting, and its twists and turns showing the sheen of the formula. Behind the façade is an absence, merely going through the motions, though that doesn’t stop genre veteran Rochant (helmer of 1994’s The Patriots) embracing his many trappings. Scenes are cast against the bustling, picturesque coastline, and firm public exchanges reveal shifting allegiances. Suited men – including recognisable TV actors John Lynch (The Fall), Brad Leland (Friday Night Lights), John Scurti (Rescue Me) and Wendell Pierce (The Wire) – appear throughout, planning and scheming to retain the balance of power.

Within the narrative, no one can be trusted; within the surrounding film, all hopes rest on the charisma of the cast. The latter helps overcome the former, performances aiming to transcend obvious plotting – and yet, for all their efforts, Dujardin and De France remain better than the material. He is effortlessly suave, selling the perception-over-reality theme with ease, but without emotional investment. She marries the requisite qualities of assertiveness and uncertainty, essential for someone seemingly in over their head, though remains a pawn in the broader game. Their secretive romance has the requisite steam, even if it is overcooked and too quick to focus on the physical. Rounding out the main players, Roth is the weakest link, never asked to do more than the minimum.

There is little that leaves an imprint in the resulting feature, beholden as it is to all things standard in the international espionage game, but its sense to return to its stars again and again remains its strongest asset. Their characters are empty, but their presence inspires a spark otherwise sorely missing, helping to cover the underlying degrees of absence.