Reviewed
by Lamar Kukuk
9/4/10
All
movies are Rorschach tests: that's why there are about 10,000 websites
devoted to analyzing them. But there may be no aspect of film more
in the eye of the beholder than pace. Your breakneck action flick
might be my snoozefest, and mine your incomprehensible blur. My gripping
drama might seem to you like pure entropy. And it's in that area
where the George Clooney vehicle The American falls. I found
it a gripping character study, highlighted by occasional bursts of violence
and suspense. But there is no question that not a lot happens during
its 100-odd minute running time. As its title suggests, (after all,
if you can be considered “the” American, odds are there aren't a lot of
us around) this is a very European movie, directed with a lot of flash
(and a lot of skin) by music video veteran Anton Corbijn. It will
go down best with Clooney's fans, because he's tremendous in a role that
has him on-screen in virtually every shot. I'll understand those
bored to tears by The American's deliberate march to the finish
line, but if it grabs you, this is a focused, smart thriller with a lot
to offer.
A man
(George Clooney) who sometimes introduces himself as Jack, others as Edward,
but is probably named neither, vacations in Sweden with girlfriend Ingrid
(Irina Bjorklund). They venture outside and are assailed by a sniper,
who Jack fends off with a gun she didn't know he had. He tells her
to go call the police and as she heads off to do so, he shoots her in the
back of the head. Jack meets with his disapproving handler Pavel
(Johan Leysen), who gives him a car and a map to a small Italian town where
he's to lay low. There, he makes a few connections. Local Priest
Father Benedetto (Paolo Bonacelli) can smell a sinner from a mile away
and sees through Jack's flimsy “I'm a photographer” cover story.
And local prostitute Clare (Violante Placido) slowly begins to melt his
cold, empty heart. But there's more than lying low on Jack's itinerary.
Pavel has asked him to help sniper Mathilde (Thelka Reuten) get the right
gun for a specialized job. And it seems that the people who want
Jack dead may know exactly where he is.
A movie
like The American needs a star to work, because it runs on our fear
that two things could happen at any time: Jack might kill an innocent
person to protect his secrets, and that a fellow professional might kill
him. Without maximum star power, we'd simply say “would someone please
kill this guy and get all those poor locals out of danger?!?” But,
no, I wanted Jack to see the error of his ways and live happily ever after,
however unlikely an outcome that might be, and that's a tribute to the
vulnerability Clooney can inject into even the most hardened character.
And Jack is HARD: I'm not sure American's most charming movie star
even cracks a single full smile in the entire movie. But he's a fascinating
figure, playing a mental chess game with everyone he meets, always watching
the angles, on the alert for any sudden move or loud noise that could herald
the doom he long ago earned. Long periods go by when neither Jack
nor anyone else speaks, but watching him slowly get the parts for, assemble
and test that special rifle for Mathilde is quite interesting. The
American always observes, never explains, and it takes your full effort
as a viewer to stick with the little details, even if there's nothing new
or special about the story's overall arc. This is a character study,
and Jack, the assassin who's lost too much of his soul to deserve redemption
but not enough to not want it, is a character worth studying.
Corbijn
is an excellent choice to direct, because he believes in keeping things
interesting by varying the blocking and shot compositions to keep this
small, simple story from ever feeling like a filmed play. Matin Ruhe's
photography of some gorgeous Italian locations is first-rate, and the score
by German rocker Hebert Gronemeyer finds suspense around every corner.
Corbijn makes excellent use of sound to keep us in Jack's ever-present
anxiety, often punctuating long periods of silence with sudden, loud noises.
Unlike
many movies that combine a single American star with a European cast acting
outside their first language, The American has several good supporting
performances. Placido navigates what on paper is a problematic role
(in love with an utterly stoic man, shedding her clothes at the slightest
provocation, generally being a “hooker with a heart of gold”) effortlessly
because her Clara never seems to doubt herself. A scene where she
uses a friend as a prop to nudge client Jack into making a real date with
her absolutely crackles, and I really bought that this was a woman who
could jump-start Jack's stone cold heart. Despite appearing in his
share of English-language films over the years, Bonacelli's accent
is still something to wade through, but he has excellent chemistry with
Clooney and is believable as a Priest who's sinned enough himself to feel
empathy rather than judgment for a man who's clearly brought trouble to
his doorstep. Leysen is excellent as the sinister Pavel. You'd
have to be pretty cold-blooded to wrangle assassins for a living, and he
nails it. Reuten handles the physical demands of her role skillfully
(I really liked the moment where she doesn't flinch while Jack takes target
practice inches from her head), even if she doesn't strike the sparks with
Clooney the script seems to expect her to.
The
American rides into theaters over Labor Day weekend with a slightly
deceptive trailer that contains about half the action that actually occurs
onscreen. And if you rely on external conflict and non-stop action
for entertainment, it's not the movie for you. But for fans of quiet
Eurothrillers and George Clooney, it's a must-see. |
