December 7, 2001 | There is a chilly precision to way writer-director Patrick Stettner establishes a vaguely but unmistakably ominous mood during the opening scenes of The Business of Strangers, a mesmerizing psychological drama that could be described as a gender-switched replay of In the Company of Men.

Julie Styron (Stockard Channing), a software-company executive, is introduced as a stressed-for-success power-player who single-mindedly, even obsessively, devotes her energies to sustaining the illusion of being completely in charge of every situation, at all times. When she receives word while on a business trip that her boss will join her for “an important meeting,” she assumes the worst. Rather than succumb to panic, however, she immediately summons a corporate headhunter to fly to her airport hotel with a briefcase full of employment opportunities.

Even so, despite her rock-steady facade, Julie is shaken. Which may explain why, later in the day, when her lackadaisical assistant arrives too late with material she needs for a presentation, Julie thinks nothing of firing the younger woman on the spot. Under normal circumstances, probably, she would at least wait until they were back at the home office before delivering the pink slip.

Back at the airport hotel, as coldly sterile a setting as any movie has ever offered, Julie receives some good news – and some much better news. Nick (Frederick Weller), the headhunter, tells Julie there are dozens of software companies that would provide her with gainful employment. (Obviously, this movie was written before the dot-com meltdown.) But Julie won’t have to worry about making good impressions on job interviews, because her boss is in town to tell her, face to face, that he is taking an early retirement – and will install her as head of the company.

Julie is pleased, of course, but also a bit miffed because, since she’s so far away from home, she can’t share her good news with anyone. Of course, you get the impression that, even if she were back in her own apartment, a workaholic like Julie wouldn’t have a huge number of friends with whom she could party hearty. (She makes a fleeting phone call to her married lover – who, predictably, can’t spend much time on the line.) In any event, for whatever reason, she drifts down to the hotel bar. Which is where she runs into Paula (Julia Stiles), the young woman she fired earlier in the day.

Slowly, stealthily, Stettner enhances the simmering tension of his drama with an erotically charged undercurrent. Julie tentatively greets Paula, Paula warily responds. The women talk about their jobs, their choices – their lives. At one point, Paula claims she is too much of a free spirit to ever be as career-driven as Julie. Julie laughs, but does not smile, as she notes that she has known dozens of free spirits like Paula -- spoiled young women from well-to-families, with degrees from the finest colleges. And, funnily enough, almost all of them come into her office sooner or later, to ask for a job.

The conversation continues as the women enjoy the hotel spa. They chat – and, perhaps, flirt – and take great pleasure in shocking the other occupants of an elevator by pretending to be squabbling lovers. Eventually, they return to the bar. That’s where they see Nick, and that’s when the trouble begins.

Paula claims that Nick sexually assaulted one of her college friends years ago. And that, worse, he was never punished for his misdeed. Questions inevitably arise: Is Paula sharing secrets, or telling lies? And if she is truthful, what – if anything – should Julie do to help Paula even the score? The night is young, and the possibilities are endless.

There is a lot more that happens in The Business of Strangers, but I don’t want to tell you anything about it. Because, frankly, part of the movie’s impact relies on your being shocked by what characters do, and urgently curious about the motives for their actions. Suffice it to say that, in the middle of the long night’s journey into day, there’s an unsettling confrontation scene that may reflect someone’s capacity for violence, or a repression of sexuality – or a little bit of both. And at the very end, there’s a double-whammy twist that makes you reconsider everything you’ve just seen – and should lead to many heated conversations in theater lobbies and beyond.

Weller is sufficiently enigmatic in his conveying of Nick’s sleaziness to maintain the mystery of his character. When it comes to muddying the waters, however, he has nothing on Stiles, a talented young actress with an admirable enthusiasm for risk-taking. As Paula, Stiles is arrestingly and provocatively ambiguous while gracefully maneuvering through every tricky curve in the arc of her character.

As for Stockard Channing, let us not mince words: She strikes the perfect balance of pride and terror, rage and remorse, acerbity and vulnerability. This is, quite simply, the finest film performance of her career. And I promise you: After the first ten minutes or so, you’ll forget all about Abigail Bartlett, the First Lady she portrays on TV’s The West Wing, and start thinking about Academy Awards. Yes, she is that good.