Movies about affairs are usually loud. They involve screaming matches, shattered plates, and dramatic exits in the rain. But Richard Eyre’s The Other Man is different. It’s quiet. It’s obsessed. It’s a movie that feels like a cold sweat, and honestly, it’s one of the strangest, most divisive entries in Liam Neeson’s mid-2000s filmography.
Released in 2008, right as Neeson was transitioning into the "I will find you and I will kill you" phase of his career with Taken, The Other Man felt like a throwback to an older type of psychological drama. It’s based on a short story by Bernhard Schlink—the guy who wrote The Reader—and you can feel that literary DNA in every scene. It isn't an action movie. It’s a movie about a man, Peter (Neeson), who discovers his late wife Lisa (Laura Linney) had a secret life in Milan with a guy named Ralph (Antonio Banderas).
What follows isn't a revenge mission in the traditional sense. It’s a slow-motion car crash of identity and grief.
Why The Other Man Hits Different Than Your Average Thriller
Most people go into this movie expecting a high-stakes showdown. I mean, you’ve got Liam Neeson and Antonio Banderas. You’re waiting for the punches to fly. Instead, the movie gives us a game of chess in a rainy Italian cafe.
Peter tracks Ralph down, but he doesn't introduce himself as the grieving husband. He pretends to be a stranger. He befriends his wife's lover just to hear the details of their affair. It’s masochistic. It’s deeply uncomfortable to watch. Peter sits there, face twitching, as Ralph—who is playing this charming, slightly delusional Spanish expat—brags about the "English lady" he loved.
The brilliance of the film lies in the contrast between the two men. Neeson is all rigid, repressed British mourning. He’s a software designer; he likes logic. Banderas is... well, he’s Ralph. He’s a man who lives in a fantasy world of his own making. When we eventually find out the truth about Ralph’s actual life—that he isn't the wealthy socialite he claims to be—the movie shifts from a story about infidelity to a story about how we all perform for the people we love.
💡 You might also like: Not the Nine O'Clock News: Why the Satirical Giant Still Matters
The Problem With the "Twist"
If you read reviews from 2008, critics weren't exactly kind. Rotton Tomatoes has it sitting at a pretty grim percentage. Why? Because the movie takes a massive risk with its timeline. Richard Eyre uses a non-linear structure that confuses some viewers. We see Peter and Lisa’s marriage in flashbacks, but the editing makes it feel like these events are happening simultaneously with Peter’s trip to Milan.
It’s a gutsy move. It forces the audience to feel Peter’s disorientation. He’s haunted. To him, Lisa isn't gone; she’s just in the other room, or she’s in Milan, or she’s standing right behind him. But for a casual viewer looking for a straight "husband vs. lover" plot, it can feel like the movie is tripping over its own feet. Honestly, though? It’s more realistic this way. Grief doesn't happen in a straight line.
Examining the Cast: Neeson, Linney, and Banderas
You really can't talk about The Other Man without looking at the powerhouse trio at its center. This was a massive amount of talent for a film that barely made a ripple at the box office.
Liam Neeson is doing something here he rarely gets to do anymore. He’s vulnerable. He’s pathetic, even. There’s a scene where he’s looking through his wife’s shoes, trying to find a hidden compartment, and you see the absolute desperation in his eyes. It’s a reminder that before he was an action star, he was one of our best dramatic actors.
Laura Linney has the hardest job. She’s the catalyst for everything, but she’s mostly seen through the fractured memories of two different men. To Peter, she was the loyal, elegant wife. To Ralph, she was a passionate, adventurous soul mate. Linney has to play both roles while remaining a singular, believable person. She manages to make Lisa feel human rather than just a "cheating wife" trope.
📖 Related: New Movies in Theatre: What Most People Get Wrong About This Month's Picks
Antonio Banderas is the wild card. He plays Ralph with this tragic flamboyance. He’s wearing these silk robes in a run-down apartment, pretending he’s royalty. It’s a heartbreaking performance because you realize that he didn't just lose a lover; he lost the only person who believed in his lie.
The Setting as a Character
The movie moves between the grey, damp streets of Cambridge and the sun-soaked (but equally lonely) plazas of Milan. The cinematography by Haris Zambarloukos—who later did Belfast and Thor—is gorgeous. It uses color to separate the worlds. Cambridge is cool blues and sterile whites. Milan is warm ochre and deep reds.
But Milan isn't a postcard here. It’s a labyrinth. Peter is lost in it, wandering through cafes and hotels, trying to find a woman who is already dead. The city feels empty, mirroring the void Lisa left behind.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Ending
A lot of the hate for The Other Man stems from the final act. People wanted a big "gotcha" moment. They wanted Peter to ruin Ralph’s life.
But that’s not what the movie is about.
👉 See also: A Simple Favor Blake Lively: Why Emily Nelson Is Still the Ultimate Screen Mystery
The ending is about the realization that no one ever truly knows another person. Peter realizes that Ralph actually loved Lisa. In a weird, twisted way, they share a bond that no one else on earth understands. They are the two people who knew her best, even if they each only knew half of her.
It’s an ending that asks for empathy instead of blood. In a world of "revenge thrillers," that’s a hard sell. But it’s also what makes the movie stick in your brain long after the credits roll. It’s about the messy, grey areas of adult relationships where there are no clear villains, just people trying to survive their own loneliness.
Technical Details and Production Facts
- Director: Richard Eyre (known for Notes on a Scandal)
- Screenplay: Richard Eyre and Charles Wood
- Source Material: "Der Andere" (The Other Man) by Bernhard Schlink
- Runtime: 88 minutes (It’s a brisk watch, despite the slow pace)
- Budget: Roughly $15 million, though it struggled significantly at the box office.
How to Watch and What to Look For
If you’re going to give The Other Man a shot, don't go in expecting Taken. Go in expecting a play. It feels theatrical. It’s dialogue-heavy.
Pay attention to the technology. The movie was made right at the cusp of the smartphone revolution. Peter discovers the affair through a hidden folder on a computer and digital photos. It captures that specific 2008 anxiety of how easy it is to hide a digital life.
Look at the shoes. There is a recurring motif involving Lisa’s shoes—specifically a pair of red heels. They represent the part of her that Peter couldn't control or understand.
Actionable Insights for Cinephiles
- Watch it as a double feature with Notes on a Scandal. Both are directed by Richard Eyre and both deal with the destructive power of secrets and obsession.
- Read the short story. Schlink’s prose is even more clinical and haunting than the film. It provides a lot of context for Peter’s internal monologue that the movie struggles to show.
- Analyze the "Ralph" persona. Ask yourself: Is Ralph actually a con artist, or is he just a man who needed to be someone else to be happy? The answer changes how you view the climax.
- Check the streaming platforms. This movie often pops up on Tubi, Pluto TV, or the "hidden" sections of Prime Video. It’s rarely a headliner, but it’s almost always available somewhere for free with ads.
The Other Man isn't a perfect film. It’s moody, it’s occasionally pretentious, and it refuses to give the audience the satisfaction of a traditional "win." But it features three of the best actors of their generation working at the top of their game in a story that refuses to simplify the complexities of marriage. If you’ve ever wondered how well you really know the person sleeping next to you, this movie will haunt you.