Karen O'Connor, a young journalist known for her celebrity profiles, is consumed with discovering the truth behind a long-buried incident that affected the lives and careers of showbiz team Vince Collins and Lanny Morris.
Karen O'Connor tells the story about two distinct but related periods in her life. In 1972, she is an up-and-coming Los Angeles based journalist who has been given the lucrative assignment of convincing once successful comic Vince Collins, who is at the tail end of his career, to allow her to ghost write his memoirs. Most specifically, she has the task from her publishers of discovering the reason behind two issues in Vince's life from 1957: why he and his former on-stage partner Lanny Morris, who is still active and well known within the entertainment business, broke up their professional partnership shortly after they hosted a successful thirty-nine hour telethon for polio research in Miami, there not having been any indication of problems between the two before that; and how did the dead body of Maureen O'Flaherty end up in the water filled bathtub in Vince and Lanny's New Jersey hotel suite, the opening of that New Jersey hotel owned by mobster Sally Sanmarco which was Lanny and ...Written by
When Maureen is in the bathtub talking to her girlfriend on the telephone, modern-day blow-molded plastic shampoo bottles can be seen on the ledge of the tub behind her. See more »
[as she comes to, he is drinking tea]
That was not a Quaalude you gave me. I've had Quaaludes.
Hmmm. I said it was like a Quaalude.
And you didn't take one yourself, you palmed the pill.
Somebody had to drive.
[puts down his tea-cup]
Don't worry, you won't get pregnant. Not from Alice, and certainly not from me. I didn't take off my pants, as you may or may not remember.
There are laws against drugging people.
Oh, please! You took it voluntarily, nobody slipped it into your ...
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In enjoyed most of Egoyan's movies very much, but I was disappointed by Where The Truth Lies. I got the impression the film wants to be too much at the same time. There is no real focus while the story swerves from the fifties to the seventies, and from Los Angeles to New York to Miami. It's a historical portrait about Hollywood in the fifties, but also a psychological drama and a whodunit at the same time. This movie could have been great if it restricted itself to one of those genres. I kept wondering what Egoyan wanted to tell us - except who killed Maureen O'Flaherty. Maybe he wanted to tell us only that, but in that case the movie could have been a lot less complex. What annoyed me most was the completely improbable plot. A corpse in a lobster crate, mixed-up identities, secret letters from unknown senders, blackmail threats - that's so Agatha Christie! And I wonder if anyone felt not disappointed after the ridiculous ending.
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