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Can You Ever Forgive Me? and the Fascination of Fraud

  • Writer: Jules Robinson
    Jules Robinson
  • Feb 16, 2019
  • 2 min read


Lee Israel opens the door to an oven and pulls out a tray. On it sit two small sheets of paper (A5 if I had to guess). Lee takes a pair of tongues and gingerly flips the papers and places the tray back in the oven. I say 'Lee Israel', I do of course mean Melissa McCarthy playing a wonderfully stoic, foul-mouthed version of the writer-turned-fraudster in director Marielle Heller's latest movie Can You Ever Forgive Me?


I'm taken back, watching this scene in the cinema, to a time in my mid-teens when I would watch Catch Me If You Can any and every time it was shown on TV. I loved the tactile shots of Leonardo DiCaprio's Frank Abagnale Jr as he slicked off stickers in the bath or scratched off numbers from a cheque. Any time I find myself absentmindedly pulling at the corner of a label on a cold beer bottle, I think of Frank with his wallet filled to the brim with labels, not for any particular purpose, maybe they'll come in use or maybe he just enjoys the sensation of collecting. Can You Ever Forgive Me? rekindled that odd spark of satisfaction in me once again.



As much as the idea of crime, mystery and spy stories appealing to the masses because of 'cheap thrills' makes sense, I think a portion of our interest must stem from much deeper in the psyche. James Bond, for example, has what many would consider to be an ideal life- he's smart, athletic, and an expert at sleeping with sexy people. Plus hotels are fun. But what James Bond lacks in realistic goals (a hotel? Who do I think I am?) films like Can You Ever Forgive Me? and Catch Me If You Can show the truth behind fraud and the delicate facades that potential danger and imprisonment hang upon.


Melissa McCarthy brings a beautiful vulnerability to the role, the strain in her voice retaliating "I'm not deaf!" after being told again that her flat smells, and it is this humanity and slight frailty that makes the fraud itself so tantalising. It is far more interesting a story when the person committing such a devious crime is not some slick operator but someone like you or me. All you'd need are a handful of vintage typewriters, oven-toasted letter paper and a dazzling wit. Seemingly as simple as a peeling off a label.

 

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