“You’re overwhelmed with the sadness of things lost.” This is an episode of Disclaimer washed in bone-deep sadness. It’s largely shot in low light and color, and it feels like it’s raining even if it’s not. Gone are the sunny climes of Southern Italy; they’re replaced here by grief, anger, and apathy.
Speaking of apathy, what do we know about Nicholas Ravenscroft? The only son of Catherine and Robert, he’s stuck in a quarter-life crisis, taking jobs like selling vacuum cleaners at a department store largely just to fund his drug addiction. The most interesting aspects of the fifth chapter of Disclaimer provoke a dangerous question: Did the wrong kid die? How much would Jonathan Brigstocke have accomplished if he had saved himself that day instead of Nicholas? And would Catherine have even cared?
The acting and production values on this episode of Disclaimer remain top-tier, but the writing suffers more than it did in the first four episodes for two reasons: 1.) It centers the show’s least interesting character in the apathetic Nicholas, whose life is torn apart before we really get to know or care about him; and 2.) One can sense a bit of a shallow understanding of both social media and addiction, which are both included here as dramatic devices without writing that says much about either. The most effective way that the former is used is in the sound design. It’s an episode with a lot of notification dings.
It’s also an episode steeped in palpable melancholy from its very first scene, one in which Catherine goes to stay with her dementia-riddled mother. She tells mom that Robert is in America again, and it’s one of Blanchett’s strongest scenes so far, in which she’s finally able to move from panic to sadness and exhaustion. There’s a smart beat about how mom uses floral scents to disguise the odors of an old person’s home, which is thematically resonant for a show about hidden secrets.
While Catherine is finding a little bit of comfort with her mother, even unloading her secrets in the middle of the night, this episode enhances the sense that maybe Stephen is going too far. The way he gleefully tortures Nicholas this episode in a manner that pushes him deeper into addiction is undeniably supposed to be read as cruel. What did Nicholas do other than live? And here’s something to consider: As much as Nancy hated Catherine, it’s hard to imagine that she’d approve of pushing another son to the brink of sanity.
It starts where so much torture starts: Instagram. Stephen opens an account for Jonathan and sets about catfishing the naïve Nicholas Ravenscroft. A beat here worth catching: Dad says that Jonathan’s profile should like Kylie Minogue. Is that because he spoke about her before going to Italy or is it a callback to the seduction scene? If it’s the latter, that might be further proof that the Italy flashbacks—and there aren’t any in this episode, by the way—are not “what happened” but an adaptation of The Perfect Stranger.
Meanwhile, Robert Ravenscroft continues to spiral. He’s jealous of a dead man, one who’s forever less than half his age. And Nicholas is tired of his dad already, only spending time with him to save money. From these early scenes, Alfonso Cuarón & co. lay the groundwork for comparison between Nicholas and Jonathan, the latter seeming almost more alive in his fake online persona than the former is in flesh and blood.
If Catherine is broken and Nicholas is checking out of reality, Stephen is angry. He puts the final phase of his vengeful plan in motion by meeting with Catherine’s assistant Jisoo (Hoyeon). She’s clearly trying to get the scoop on her problematic boss, and Stephen feeds her everything she needs. Catherine has been threatening Stephen over the truth he’s revealed in his book. He gives her a copy, throwing another grenade into Catherine’s life. He’s blown apart her home, and now it’s time to take down her career too. Kline’s reading of a specific line here is perfect, dripping with anger: “When it became inconvenient, she let him die.”
Still glowing with the perfection of his plan, Stephen continues to catfish Nicholas. It’s super creepy. And truly sad. Nicholas is so lonely that he becomes instantly co-dependent on someone cool he meets on social media, freaking out when his new online friend doesn’t reply immediately. He has no idea he’s talking to the guy who couldn’t pick out the right vacuum cleaner.
Catherine’s work life explodes in glorious fashion after Jisoo and another colleague confront Ravenscroft over her improper, unprofessional behavior, including accusing Stephen of being a pedophile. The sound mix here is strong as the music grows and the bass sounds like a pounding heartbeat. As Catherine tries to leave, someone puts a hand on her shoulder, and she spins around and slaps him. At least three people are recording. Catherine is about to go viral.
So much of the final stretch of chapter five plays out over social media that it’s a reminder that making that kind of interaction cinematic is extremely difficult, even for Oscar winners. As Stephen closes the net on Nicholas, Catherine’s world continues to crumble. She goes to the only place left: Stephen’s house, but he’s too cowardly to answer the door. She yells a key line through the mailbox that feels important to the upcoming final pair of episodes: “Nothing you do to me or my family is going to bring your son back.” What will Stephen feel after all his grenades have gone off and he’s still alone?
Stephen drops the floor out on Nicholas. At first, he’s framing questions about The Perfect Stranger, which he knows Nicholas has read: e.g., “Was her lust for Jonathan greater than her love for her child?” Then he sends Nicholas a photo of himself with his mother on the beach. And the young man finally figures out that the person he’s been talking to is dead. He’s the “Perfect Stranger.” Stephen pushes the throttle and texts dirty pictures of Catherine to her son. Boom. “The woman, the whore, is your mother.” And, again, it feels like we’re supposed to question exactly how far we want Stephen to go. Has he crossed into cruelty? When he says something like “I felt as if I stuffed a kitten into a sack and dropped into a river” with a smile, it seems obvious that his sadism should come into question, even if viewers think Catherine deserves a little bit of a comeuppance.
The icky feeling continues as Stephen and Robert have dinner. While Catherine and Nicholas emotionally fall apart, Robert is moaning to the person responsible for all of it. Really? Does it feel truthful that he would leave his family behind so completely and so quickly? That he would never question Stephen’s motives or actions? And what does that say about his marriage, family, and even his own backbone? It seems pathetic and also telling that Robert is so instantly drawn to someone so eager to destroy everything he knows.
As Nicholas crawls into a couch in a drug den, the narration ends with “This is where he knows he can be his best self.”.
Stray observations
- • You have to love the music differences as Stephen and Nicholas chat on Insta, with the former listening to Bach and the latter singing along to “Get Busy” by Yeat.
- • Some have complained, understandably so, that Disclaimer might have made a better film than a seven-part series. What would have been lost from this episode? The stuff with Catherine and her mother tonight likely goes. Maybe some of the build-up to the office collapse. The entire Instagram convo takes two minutes. It feels like the film version might have been more of a thriller by virtue of these cuts, but the weighted blanket of sadness wouldn’t have been the same. This is more of a tragedy.
- • Two episodes left! Who’s the MVP so far? I go with Kline, who understands the blinded vengeance of Stephen down to his frozen soul.
- • Will the story of Catherine Ravenscroft end like the version of her in Stephen’s book? Do we want it to?
- • A note on someone who’s in every episode but gets no attention: The great Indira Varma is the woman who reads Catherine’s narration. You know her as Ellaria Sand on Game Of Thrones, Zoe Luther on Luther, and Suzie Costello on Torchwood. She’s doing a wonderful job.
English (US) ·