Everything in writer/director Tony Gilroy’s second feature snaps, crackles, and pops, from the dialogue to the editing, from the lively score to (of course) the plot itself. Indeed, from the title sequence on, there seem to be a million pieces in play, an idea that Gilroy gives visual conceit to by often putting multiple shots on the screen at the same time. In fact, a lot of Duplicity’s fun derives from watching Gilroy and his actors, who probably needed a roadmap to understand what their characters were up to at any given moment, keep all these spinning balls up in the air.

Certainly it’s easy to see, though, why Duplicity has divided audiences for this same reason. If you go in expecting a typical heist or caper film, with a dash of style and a couple of mild, viewer-friendly twists à la Soderbergh’s Ocean’s trilogy, you might be disappointed, if not seriously ticked off. That’s because in this tale of exaggeratedly high-stakes corporate espionage the entire narrative is a braided rope that intentionally makes you question each and every one of its strands.

That’s not to say that the storyline is hard to follow, as I’ve heard some complain. Yes, there are several head-scratching moments, but it’s a case of “just keep watching” and after about five minutes, whatever was puzzling you seems to clear up. Replaced by a new head-scratcher of course, which is how Gilroy keeps the audience on the line, slowly but inexorably (and expertly) reeling us in over the course of two hours. Much has been made about how the movie frequently jumps back in time, but it should be noted that every one of those scenes shares some continuity with the others—it’s as if a parallel yet complementary storyline is being constructed right alongside the main one. Also, each one of those flashbacks (not really the right term, I know) is presented as a vignette in the protagonists’ shared history, and as such has its own internal set-up, complication, and resolution; this makes them satisfying in their own right, not just random sprinklings of backstory.

Then again, bear in mind that I’m a “plot-driven” kind of guy. That’s my bias. Sure, I like characters, I like ideas, but I always prefer it when any kind of dramatic fiction reveals those elements through the unfolding of “story”—through goals, obstacles, solutions, and more obstacles. And what Duplicity masterfully does is meld character to plot so closely that the two become almost indistinguishable. In fact, the movie isn’t really about stealing secret formulae and the like. It’s about marriage, even though that word is probably never uttered. More precisely, it’s about aspiring to the kind of romantic relationship in which both parties can put aside the gamesmanship, misrepresentations, and petty deceptions that often seem part and parcel of the dating scene.

Like the rest of us, the two leads aren’t so starry-eyed that they don’t believe that marriage comes with its own levels of, well, duplicity. But they’re willing to venture into such challenging new territory and “settle down,” financially and emotionally, largely because playing all the same old games over and over again has gotten really tired.

Yes, Duplicity has a certain slickness to it, but in never gets oily with self-congratulation. And yes, some of the suspense sequences aren’t quite a suspenseful as the movie seems to think they are, but these are relatively minor blips in a work that's impressively ambitious: Duplicity’s stumbles show why movies like this aren’t made more often. Shifting the POV restlessly, “sampling” his own dialogue in various ways, and constantly adjusting the focus of both the lens and the narrative, Gilroy is like a magician who dares you to keep looking up his sleeves.

Of course the four principals, Tom Wilkinson, Paul Giamatti, Clive Owen, and Julia Roberts, are essentially approaching each other the same way. It’s the I-know-that-you-know-that-I-know-ad infinitum school of cat-and-mouse. Owen, who has been in far too many mediocre projects the last five years for a performer of his talent and personality, takes to the material with incredible ease. And it’s great to see him partnered with Roberts again, although I may have been one of the only members of the moviegoing public who enjoyed the pair in Closer (which I felt was terribly underrated in just about every way). Roberts, by the way, is excellent; you get the feeling that this is the kind of role she’s been waiting for. She’s brushed up against similar parts opposite George Clooney in the Ocean’s films, in the Clooney-directed Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, and elsewhere over her career, but here she gets to pull out all the stops: using her versatility to throw off both the audience and the other characters. She makes it look easy, the way she can suddenly veer from romcom-like repartee to a credible seriousness that allows her to take over scenes dramatically.

You wouldn't think so from this still, but this scene between Giamatti and Wilkinson is one of the best bits of silent slapstick you're apt to see this century. (Photo Credit: Universal Pictures; © 2008 Universal Studios. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

So if you not only don’t mind being kept off-balance, but actually relish it, then it’s hard to go wrong with Duplicity. In fact, it’s the kind of movie where you’ll want to sit with your friend or date as far as possible from everyone else. That way you can lean over from time to time and whisper conspiratorially to clarify things and make sure you’re both on the same page—just like the characters up on the screen are doing.