First seen strolling through an airport terminal, attired in a flattering suit, briefcase over one shoulder, the other hand working a cell phone, Stockard Channing's character in The Business Of Strangers could almost pass as a clip-art icon of the successful modern businesswoman. The debut feature of writer-director Patrick Stettner then chips away at that icon for the remainder of its brisk run time, but the procedure is less a hatchet job than a ginger archeological dig. A woman of what's politely called "a certain age," Channing struggled up through the ranks of her profession at a time when that was an oddity, and clearly achieved her status by refusing to be anyone's teddy bear. When, for example, an assistant (Julia Stiles) blows a big meeting by arriving 45 minutes late with no warning, Channing unhesitatingly fires her and leaves her standing on the curb. But she doesn't recognize that Stiles could just as easily be on loan from the Id as from Manpower (or that she is, at times, less a character than a device to examine what makes Channing tick). Meeting Stiles later at an airport hotel bar, Channing tries to make amends for her quick decision, not expecting, but not unprepared for, the mind games that follow. Alternately coy, blunt, and flirtatious, Stiles begins to inquire about Channing's past, her romantic and professional history, and her attitude toward aging, childless and alone. Eventually, Stiles turns her attention to an oily corporate headhunter (Fred Weller), calling on Channing's sense of female vengeance in a quest to right a past wrong. Stettner has clearly spent time with the works of David Mamet and Neil LaBute, but his cast wears his secondhand notions well. While nicely matched by Stiles, Channing thoroughly inhabits a role that seems custom-made for her, and provides even more suggestions of a life beneath the surface than Stettner's taut dialogue intimates. Ultimately, the director's commitment to tautness and suggestiveness starts to work against the film: Business raises about twice as many issues as it's prepared to handle, and after it enters thriller territory, it starts to broadcast its twists as aggressively as an unregulated Mexican radio station. More intriguing than satisfying, and unlikely to be remembered long after the post-film debate it seems designed to stir, it nonetheless never threatens to bore. Stettner gives his cast meaty, relatively untouched material, and for the most part, the film needs little more.