Ralph Fiennes, Jessica Chastain battle privilege and morality in 'The Forgiven'

If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, John Michael McDonagh is among its chief architects. It’s evident in every parched, barren square inch of the writer-director’s Moroccan-set satire, “The Forgiven.”  His desired goal is to eviscerate white privilege, but despite superb work by Ralph Fiennes as his emissary, McDonagh diminishes the impact with a facile attempt to forward his do-gooder agenda.

He’s also a tad late to the party, given the inventive “RRR” on Netflix not only beats him to the punch in excoriating imperialism but also kicks his butt in terms of presentation. “RRR” is clever, audacious and fun; “The Forgiven” is obvious, redundant and dull. Deadly so. At nearly two hours, it’s a trudge to traverse. But a host of solid turns by its largely anonymous cast provides a bit of an oasis amid the arid sands.

Foremost is Fiennes as David Henniger, a middle-age Brit doctor with a trophy wife to accentuate an arrogance so off-putting he can’t stand himself. He’s also a “high-functioning alcoholic,” as his significantly better half, Jo (Jessica Chastain), asserts in one of her many barbed bon mots leveled at the man she’s grown to detest in 12 years of wedded amiss. In David’s mind, there’s him, and there’s everyone else in his self-appointed caste system.

Residing at the bottom of his hierarchy are the native Moroccans, whom he sincerely believes exist only to cater to his every whim. He barely acknowledges their presence, and only when he requires their assistance. He’s as boorish as McDonagh’s overbearing interpretation of Lawrence Osborne’s novel about a rampant racist about to get his comeuppance. He may as well clobber us over the head with a tire iron, as McDonagh persists in establishing David’s despicableness.

Why, you ask yourself, would someone as vivacious as Jo, a successful children’s author, marry this self-loathing slug? That’s the first of many fissures to appear in a script that is just shy of preachy in its condemnation of monied white Eurotrash, all of whom have seemingly infiltrated a hedonistic bash at the converted ksar owned and operated by David’s old chum, Richard Galloway (“Last Night in Soho’s” Matt Smith).

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Dickie, as he’s called, would be the film’s crudest gay stereotype if not for his American partner, Dally Margolis, who in the hands of Caleb Landry Jones (“Get Out”), is borderline offensive in his flamboyance. But it’s hard to argue that Dickie and Dally are the only signs of life in a film that’s more sober than satirical. They are the unintentional antidote for the deadly serious predicament David finds himself in after accidentally killing a young Arab boy en route to Dickie and Dally’s weekend shindig in the High Atlas mountains.

The cold, calculating manner in which David and his fellow partygoers handle the boy’s death doesn’t ring true. But it’s in keeping with McDonagh’s reliance on manipulation, which reaches its pinnacle when the boy’s father, Abdellah (Ismael Kanater), arrives to claim the body and insists on David accompanying him on the journey back to the family’s homestead. David, bigot that he is, immediately conjures visions of ISIS dancing in what he’s certain will be his soon severed head. 

The problem is Fiennes is so convincing as the ugly European that you almost hope his worst fear comes true. But surely redemption awaits. And how fully you embrace David’s epiphany will likely inform your overall take on the success of a film that doesn’t stop with David. Jo is thrust into a similar moral dilemma when she finds herself being seduced by a suave American partygoer in Christopher Abbott’s Tom Day. When David’s away, the mice will play, mostly in a coke-fueled orgy to rival Bacchanalia.

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In the end, all get what they deserve, except the array of rote Arab characters. McDonagh errantly believes he’s championing their desire to be recognized as humans as worthy of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness as vermin like David. But the payoff is so clumsy, so condescending, it pretty much falls flat. So much for good intentions. In “The Forgiven,” they’re unforgivable.

The Forgiven

Rating: R for some sexual content, brief violence, language throughout, drug use

Cast: Ralph Fiennes, Jessica Chastain, Christopher Abbott, Matt Smith and Caleb Landry Jones

Writer/director: John Michael McDonagh

Run time: 116 minutes

Where to watch: At Plimoth Cinema starting July 8 and other theaters

Grade: C

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This article originally appeared on The Patriot Ledger: Plimoth Cinema: Jessica Chastain, Ralph Fiennes star in 'The Forgiven'