After a number of epic features, Minghella (The English Patient) returns to England for the first time since his debut, Truly, Madly, Deeply. Working his own screenplay and back on home turf, Breaking And Entering finds the director in a small yet ambitious mood. Metaphors abound as he ruminates on mirrored lives and opposite outcomes. He digs into the perils of multiculturalism and opportunists who prey on the weak, from all sides of a cultural divide.

Will is an architect who, unable to control his home life, aims to eliminate the social disorder of London’s Kings Cross. His teenage daughter is addicted to gymnastics, practicing day and night, and the strain is atrophying his marriage. Ironically, acrobatic teenage burglars have repeatedly hit Will’s office. Capturing the perpetrators provides an opportunity to escape his home life (he stakes the premises with help from a prostitute) and leads him into the arms of the criminal’s mother. The story deepens as questions arise over manipulation, and resolution. As Will says: “I don't know how to be honest, that's why I'm so fond of metaphor.”

It’s an engaging film yet for all the emotional complexity, Breaking and Entering remains strangely cold, offhanded, dismissive. As the turbulent text unfolds, it presents itself conspicuously, spelling out its contrivances in symmetrical metaphor – often a dramatic choker. The death-certificate is deferred by performance. Law drops ticks and affectations for an honest, thoughtful portrayal with flawless support from Binoche. Add an energetic score and elegant camera work, and Minghella offers many ways to enjoy his film. Breaking and Entering is effective yet it’s largely un-affecting, and that perhaps is the biggest crime of all.

// COLIN FRASER