Nbc Monday Night at the Movies the Ultimate Lie

By ADAM SANDLER

NBC Monday Night at the Movies THE ULTIMATE LIE (Mon. (18), 9-11 p.m., NBC) Filmed in Los Angeles by Haft/Nasatir Prods. in association with Citadel Entertainment. Executive producers, Marcia Nasatir, Steven Haft; producer, Anthony Santa Croce; supervising producer, Karen Danaher-Dorr; co-producer, David Craig; director, Larry Shaw; writer, Rob Fresco.
 
Cast: Kristin Davis, Michael Murphy, George Eads, Gregory Itzin, Jane Marla Robbins, John Pennell, Nicolette Scorcese, Virginya Keehne, Billy Burke, Blair Brown, Jean Shum, Alexander Zale, David Cromwell, James MacDonald, Donald Craig, Sarah Lassez, Steven Christopher Young, Arthel Neville, Doug Tompos, Janine Jordae, Benito Martinez, Liza Dinkins. In "The Ultimate Lie" scripter Rob Fresco fashions a classy, well-crafted tale from a premise that could have easily been a daytime talkshow topic: daughters who are hookers and discover their fathers are johns.
 

Story's slow build of teenage angst meets upper-class values takes on an ardent stride when Claire McGrath (Kristin Davis), while working as a high-priced call girl, arrives at a customer's hotel room to discover that the john is Malcolm, her father (Michael Murphy).

The encounter sets in motion a series of conflicts within the family which naturally gets exacerbated when Claire reveals to her mother Joan (Blair Brown) the underlying reason for her more-strained-than-usual relationship with her upstanding father.

As a respected law school dean who is in line for a chancellorship, Malcolm must be beyond reproach. Joan, a former big-gun trial lawyer who left her career for homemaker status, seems content as the poster woman for mother of the year, but one suspects she knows more than she allows.

Add the favored son (George Eads), who is following the familial footsteps by becoming a lawyer, and denizens of academia to the milieu and the story evokes a well-rounded environment.

Fresco has also wisely substituted gnawing tension for the expected high-pitched histrionics and temper flares, and in the process creates deftly scripted encounters that have the characters questioning each other's motives, while often undergoing some timely introspection of their own.

Pic is further enhanced by the direction of Larry Shaw, who guides Murphy and Brown into solid, understated and dignified readings of Fresco's taut script that give the telefilm some heft beyond its tawdry topic.

Though Davis clearly pulls her weight as the spoiled, perpetually angry daughter, her perf also occasionally recalls her now-deceased Brooke character from "Melrose Place," which may serve to confuse some viewers.

Camera, Walt Lloyd; editor, Neil Mandelberg; production design, Vaughan Edwards; sound, David Barr Yaffe; music, Peter Bernstein.