You always hear about whistleblowers––those who smuggle documentation for the benefit of the public out of corporations trying to make or save a buck at the expense of human lives––but what about those who decide the risk is too great? They’ve procured the papers. Got out of the building. And now find themselves victims of escalating harassment with nowhere to turn. Maybe they’re offered a settlement to have it all go away, but can they trust someone willing to bury evidence that proves culpability for the extinguishing of innocent lives? These are scientists, not lawyers. Paper-pushers, not security operatives. They need help.
That’s where Riz Ahmed’s “Tom” in David Mackenzie’s Relay comes in. He’s a man of many names. (Don’t look them up; they aren’t real.) An enigmatic figure who’s always watching and never talking. We meet him at the tail-end of his latest job protecting a would-be whistleblower named Hoffman (Matthew Maher). This moment is the fruit of his labor, insulating his client while also ensuring his safety by having the company’s CEO make the exchange in-person. If there’s no signs of retribution afterwards, all parties will go their separate ways. If the company does something to void the deal, Tom will send his contingency copy to the authorities.
It’s an impressive little gig he’s got going, one that utilizes government-subsidized channels to assure his anonymity when engaging with clients and corporations. All incoming phone calls arrive via a messaging service. All outgoing calls are filtered through a relay station meant to assist people with disabilities who are unable to communicate themselves. And when the need to send packages arises (of documents or cash), the postal service supplies a wide range of PO Boxes and rerouting programs able to confuse and escape prying eyes. So when Sarah (Lily James) contacts him to extricate herself from similar circumstances as Hoffman, the game begins anew.
Justin Piasecki’s script takes us through a job from start to finish. We see the precautions taken and the severity of why. Sarah hasn’t come to Tom without cause. She’s been made to feel unsafe and is smart enough to know the people following her (led by Sam Worthington, Willa Fitzgerald, and Jared Abrahamson) are too menacing to simply take at their word. Tom must test these aggressors to understand their capabilities. Flush them out, flag their identities, and provide them an example of just how good he is at avoiding them. They’ll still try to trip him up and Sarah isn’t infallible as far as letting anxiety get the best of her, but Tom never bats an eye.
If Relay stayed true to the level of robotic precision that Tom’s movements possess, I think it would still have been enough to maintain our investment in the thriller aspects of the cat-and-mouse chase. The filmmakers, however, feel the proceedings needed more of a human touch. The result: a subplot wherein we learn about his character through Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. Maybe these are a ruse, but we can’t ignore that they may also be real. Regardless, they reveal insight into who he might be outside of the meticulous nature of the job. Maybe he’s not infallible himself––there might be more to his line of work besides the lucrative windfall of letting Big Pharma pay its scared employees off.
Going personal allows for additional drama once Tom finds himself caring for Sarah’s well-being, too (helped along by the fact Hoffman is ever-present via daily check-ins that become increasingly melancholic). More than merely an inroad towards potential romance, though, this is also a narrative decision to inject chaos. Because the less clinical things get, the greater the opportunity for them to go horribly wrong. Tom likes to say that he will walk away the moment a client fails to follow his stringent rules to the letter, but he’s also promised protection. At a certain point, one negates the other and he must make a choice. One that might expose him to greater danger than those under his care.
The suspense that ensues is highly effective, despite it mostly being scenes with different relay operatives speaking aloud what Tom types as Sarah listens. The kinetic editing and impact of knowing a third party is also on the line creates a taut sense of uncertainty as far as who will blink first. It’s why the first half hits so hard with Ahmed delivering a mostly wordless performance en route to setting everything up so it can inevitably fall apart. An early airport scene excels by showing how good he is at juggling multiple tasks and how excited Worthington and company are to discover if they can keep up. Because, in the end, perfection on both sides means nothing if the woman in the middle can be bluffed into giving away the game.
I only wish the third act didn’t devolve into generic action set pieces that ultimately leave the quieter, cerebral intrigue behind. Mackenzie and Piasecki deftly orchestrate the pivot with a fitting (if not completely shocking) revelation, but it’s still just running and gunning with no real stakes beyond the possibility that someone could get too frustrated to remember the mutually assured destruction at play. They can’t kill Tom (or Sarah) and expect the documents not to be released. And Tom can’t really kill them without facing consequences. Thus the “fight” becomes about capture and escape, all that cool analog subterfuge concluding in neutered gunplay. Unfortunate, but thankfully not the end of the world.
Relay premiered at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival.