Sometimes, a movie feels like it arrived out of time, carrying the faint scent of studio dust and delayed expectations. Roland Joffé's Goodbye Lover (1999) is one such picture. Filmed a few years prior, it eventually surfaced at the tail end of the decade, a twisty, cynical neo-noir that felt both familiar and slightly strange, like a cassette you found wedged under the car seat long after you'd switched to CDs. It didn't exactly set the box office alight – pulling in less than $2 million against a budget rumoured to be somewhere north of $10 million – but finding it tucked away on a video store shelf offered a certain kind of dark, intriguing promise.

The setup slithers into classic noir territory: Jake Dunmore (Dermot Mulroney) is handsome, slightly feckless, and carrying on a torrid affair with the enigmatic Sandra Dunmore (Patricia Arquette), who happens to be his brother Ben's (Don Johnson) wife. Ben is wealthy, controlling, and conveniently insured for a hefty sum. When tragedy inevitably strikes, it kicks off a chain reaction of betrayals, shifting alliances, and revelations that keep doubling back on themselves. It's the kind of plot where you sense the rug is always about to be pulled, you just don't know exactly when or how. Joffé, known for weighty dramas like The Killing Fields (1984) and The Mission (1986), seems an odd choice for this kind of pulpy thriller, but he keeps the L.A. atmosphere slick and sun-drenched, a bright backdrop for some very dark deeds.

At the heart of the tangled web is Patricia Arquette. Fresh off her Lynchian turn in Lost Highway (1997), she dives headfirst into Sandra, a character who initially seems like a straightforward femme fatale but morphs and recalculates with dizzying speed. Is she a victim? A manipulator? A calculating mastermind? Arquette plays Sandra with a captivating blend of vulnerability and venom, her motivations constantly shifting like sand through an hourglass. It's a performance that fully commits to the script's hairpin turns, even when those turns strain credulity. She seems to relish the role's inherent theatricality, making Sandra fascinating to watch even when you’re not entirely sure you like her – or even believe her latest iteration. It’s a bold, almost chameleon-like performance that holds the often convoluted plot together. Dermot Mulroney, meanwhile, effectively embodies the kind of morally grey character who thinks he's smarter than he is, easily swayed by charm and opportunity.
Perhaps the most surprising element, especially looking back from today, is the casting of Ellen DeGeneres as Sgt. Rita Pompano, the cynical, world-weary detective investigating the central crime. At the time, DeGeneres was primarily known for her sitcom and stand-up comedy. Seeing her here, delivering dry, sarcastic observations with a weary deadpan, was genuinely unexpected. She doesn't just play a cop; she plays a cop who seems utterly unimpressed by the melodrama swirling around her, cutting through the lies with a disaffected wit. It’s a supporting role, but her presence lends the film a unique flavour. Apparently, the role was written specifically with her in mind by writers Ron Peer, Joel Cohen, and Alec Sokolow (the latter two, interestingly, also penned Toy Story!), which perhaps explains why it feels so tailored to her less-seen dramatic sensibilities. Her scenes with partner Detective Rollins (Ray McKinnon) crackle with a believable, tired-cop chemistry.

Watching Goodbye Lover now feels like unearthing a time capsule of late-90s thrillers. There's a certain glossiness to it, a pre-millennium cynicism simmering beneath the surface. The plot, penned by a team including Peer and the Toy Story duo Cohen & Sokolow, throws everything at the wall – insurance fraud, hidden identities, maybe even a touch of incestuous implication – sometimes resulting in a narrative that feels more complicated than complex. You can almost feel the script straining to outsmart the audience at every turn. It’s a film that probably wouldn't get made quite like this today, existing in that specific space between glossy studio production and slightly disreputable B-movie thrills. Its delayed release (reportedly filmed around 1996) might contribute to this feeling; it landed just as cinematic styles were starting to shift again.
So, what lingers after the credits roll on Goodbye Lover? It's not a profound film, nor is it a perfectly constructed thriller. Some of the twists feel more arbitrary than earned, and the motivations can occasionally get lost in the shuffle. Yet, there's an undeniable entertainment value here, primarily driven by Arquette's go-for-broke performance and the novelty of DeGeneres playing against type so effectively. It’s a reminder of a time when mid-budget, star-driven thrillers were a regular feature at the multiplex and, more importantly for us here at VHS Heaven, readily available for a weekend rental gamble. It might not be high art, but it’s a slippery, diverting ride through familiar noir tropes, delivered with enough late-90s style and unexpected casting to make it memorable.
Justification: While the plot gets tangled in its own cleverness and it lacks deeper thematic resonance, Goodbye Lover delivers solid entertainment thanks to a magnetic central performance from Patricia Arquette and the surprisingly effective dramatic turn by Ellen DeGeneres. Its slick L.A. noir atmosphere and twist-a-minute approach make it a fun, if flawed, relic of its time – the kind of movie perfect for rediscovering on a rainy afternoon.
Final Thought: It's a curious artifact, isn't it? A film that barely made a ripple on release but offers a surprising amount of pulpy fun, proving that sometimes the most interesting finds are hiding in plain sight on the forgotten shelves of the video store era.