When the director of the indie The Merry Gentleman suffered a ruptured appendix, actor Michael Keaton stepped up and delivered a beautiful, quiet and contemplative film about two souls looking for redemption and release from the horrors of their pasts while struggling with issues of trust and acceptance as they face painful and uncertain futures.

Set in Chicago, Keaton plays a loner who struggles with the horrible things he does for a living, and is about to end it all when a woman (Kelly MacDonald) running from her past as the wife of an abusive husband interrupts his attempt and ultimately saves his life.

This one moment draws the characters together into a complex relationship that has dangerous – and perhaps deadly – consequences. But these characters, drawn with light stokes of the director’s brush, manage to embed themselves into the psyche of the viewer, resonating with a power that is both puzzling and refreshing.

The Merry Gentleman is not an easy film to sum up without giving too much away. It’s also one of those films that inspired a lengthy, speculative conversation afterward. The performances are first rate, understated, as is everything about this film. MacDonald’s character speaks a great deal but says little; Keaton plays a man who says very little but speaks volumes. In the end, much is left to the interpretation of the viewer, perhaps a little too much. But ultimately the movie proves to be a cinematic experience with characters who are so well rendered they remained with me for days.

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