George Clooney's new film, “The American,” eschews more than just modern movie conventions. It neglects to give us a protagonist to cheer on. We're left with Clooney's star power and maturing acting skills--which are considerable--and a story which can't rally to save itself in the film's waning moments.
Clooney plays Jack; an assassin whose latest hit while stationed in Sweden goes awry. He takes out his target but also kills an innocent, someone he made the mistake of getting to know too well. So he decides to cool his heels in a quaint Italian hamlet while his boss (Johan Leyson) figures out what went wrong.
Before Jack can decompress he's given another assignment, but it's as mysterious as just about everything else in this minimalist yarn. He must help build a rifle for a fellow killer (Thekla Reuten).
In between long coffee breaks and thoughtfully staring into space, Jack falls for a local prostitute (Violante Placido), a subplot so stale it feels like a jumping off point for a film parody.
Our assassin spends little time working on his cover - he's supposed to be a photographer on assignment. Jack never so much as fondles a camera shutter, and for a man in near constant danger he sure walks around as if there's nothing to fear but a fearfully dull screenplay itself.
"The American" does work when we see Jack handing the tools of his trade. There's a panther-like grace to the way he builds his weapons that makes him menacing without saying a word.
And Clooney has very little to say in "The American." It's like the film was written for Clint Eastwood circa 1970, but Clooney's man with an ordinary name lacks the presence Eastwood brought to his iconic roles of yore.
The film offers hints of Jack as an actual, full bodied character, but no such person ever emerges. Clooney's supporting cast mates try to prop the assassin up, saying he's a good man with a sinful past. They really don't know anything about him, and nor do we. The presence of an avuncular priest also promises to enrich our understanding of Jack's plight. But nothing ever materializes.
"The American" is so thoroughly European you half expect the film to stop in its tracks for a Stella Artois commercial. It's as if director Anton Corbijn gorged himself on '70s era thrillers, the closest domestic films got to that Euro sensibility, but couldn't manage to replicate the reasons why those features gave us so many enduring characters. And, the more we see Clooney as assassin, the less we care about his fate – or the movie as a whole.
DIRECTOR: Anton Corbijn SCREENWRITERS: Rowan Joffe, Martin Booth, PRODUCERS: Anne Carey, George Clooney, Jill Green, Grant Heslov CAST: George Clooney, Johan Leysen, Thekla Reuten, Paolo Bonacelli, Violante Placido MPAA RATING: R
Christian Toto is a Denver-based arts reporter, print and radio film critic and movie blogger (www.whatwouldtotowatch.com)
