Damian Hurley's directorial debut, Strictly Confidential, takes viewers on a wild ride filled with more twists and turns than the best roller coaster and more endings than the Lord of the Rings saga. Unfortunately, this ride is far from smooth and Bilbo Baggins is noticeably absent, leaving audiences feeling more bewildered than entertained.
From the outset, it's clear that Strictly Confidential struggles to find its footing. The acting feels stilted and unconvincing, with characters resembling models more than real people. Georgia Lock's performance, characterized by a series of frowns, fails to inject any depth into her character, while Elizabeth Hurley's involvement in a questionable love scene directed by her own son adds an uncomfortable layer to the film.
Throughout the film, it's hard to shake the feeling that you're watching something akin to a low-budget late-night Cinemax flick from the '90s. The gratuitous cleavage shots of Elizabeth Hurley only serve to underscore the film's desperate attempts at titillation.
The plot, meanwhile, meanders aimlessly, punctuated by strange scenic shots that serve only to extend the runtime. The music feels out of place, failing to complement the action on screen. And while the story attempts to build tension with its numerous twists, it ultimately collapses under the weight of its own ambition.
Despite its flaws, Strictly Confidential does have its moments of intrigue. The film's various endings and unexpected plot developments keep viewers guessing until the very end, even if some of these turns feel forced or contrived. And while the overall experience may be uneven, there's a certain guilty pleasure in surrendering to the film's absurdity and embracing it for what it is.
In the end, Strictly Confidential is a flawed but occasionally entertaining thriller that struggles to live up to its ambitions. While it may not be destined for cinematic greatness, it offers a bumpy ride that some viewers may find worth taking, if only for the sheer unpredictability and awkwardness of it all.
Jessie Hobson