Blanchett herself describes Disclaimer as dealing with “sharp, quick, and lasting judgments” forged out of harshness rather than empathy. “Maybe we add our voices to the cacophony for fear of being judged ourselves. We are all the heroes of our own narratives, right?” she tells Vanity Fair. “To that end there is much unflattering human behavior depicted in the series.”
In that sense, Disclaimer is not about contemporary cancel culture any more than it’s about the zeal to punish in historic incidents like witch trials, inquisitions, or Red Scares. It’s more focused on personal relationships than mob mentality. The show explores the nature of condemnation, but holds back on pointing fingers. “I’m sure there’s an evolutionary trait there for why we fall into judgments of other people so easily,” Cuarón says. The problem, he adds, is “when those judgments don’t come from informed facts and just come from what other people are talking about, or saying, or claiming.”
Blanchett’s Catherine Ravenscroft is ripe for a public downfall, partly because she has so much to lose. As the show begins, she is a celebrated journalist, admired by coworkers and doted on by her husband, Robert (an obsequious Sacha Baron Cohen), who brings his family’s wealth and power to the equation. Only her 20-something son (The Power of the Dog’s Kodi Smit-McPhee) seems to reject her, but most parents know that’s not uncommon. He has financial and substance abuse problems of his own, and his rejection is a bulwark against her disappointment.