HUNTED….BY SWEDES
The American
***
Review by Joel Frost
Anton Corbijn is a name that is not associated tightly with feature films. Yet anyone who’s taken a look at the iconic cover to U2’s masterpiece, “The Joshua Tree” or at most visual representations of Depeche Mode in the 1990’s, has peered at the work of the director of “The American”, the brooding and picturesque new film starring George Clooney. Corbijn, directing only his second feature film, gives us the story of Jack, an aging assassin who’s looking to leave the life after one last job. Corbijn’s visual style is deep, wide, and highly recognizable. From the panoramic vistas of the Italian countryside, to the panoramic vistas of Clooney’s profile, “The American” is a collection of painstakingly conceived shots strung together over the story of a man who seems to have one last chance to save his soul, and the hooker who loves him.
Jack, Clooney’s character, has apparently spent his young-to-middle-age life killing for money, or at least facilitating killing for others. He is being hunted by some Swedes (always a scary thing) while in Italy to provide the proper rifle to another assassin, Ingrid (Irina Bjørklund). He’s instructed to stay in one particular town, but his instincts tell him to move to the next one over. Good thing, as this town has the sparkling whore Clara (Violante Placido) in it, and she quickly falls for Jack, despite (or possibly because of) his apparent lack of emotion. Jack is worn down by his years in the business, and Clooney plays down his own usual charm in order not to overwhelm the character. Clooney manages fine with this, which shows his maturity as an actor. He has always been able to find different levels of energy for his parts, but his biggest struggle has perhaps been to control his burbling charisma. Jack is not the George Clooney with the smiling eyes and good-natured smirk. He’s a serious and weary man, as he must be. Clara’s affection for him is sparked in one of their early sessions. She seems to see, or imagine, the George underneath the Jack. From an audience’s perspective, it’s not hard to understand, as we have a context for George. For Clara, in this world, it shows a bit more wishful thinking and naivete.
“The American” relies on a kind of story-telling conceit that can sometimes ruin a film. Adapted for the screen by Rowan Joffe, from the novel “A Very Private Gentleman” by Martin Booth, it does not spend much time with backstory and exposition. Certainly, too much clumsy exposition can drown a story, but the opposite is true as well. Relying on implication as a substitute for history and context suggests a laziness and/or pomposity by the story-teller. Jack is the prototypical aging criminal who wants to get out of the life as it is crushing his soul but needs the money from one last score so that he can live happily with a woman who sees the good in him that he doubted still existed. Fair enough, but the reason an audience accepts this context is because we’ve seen it time and again at the cinema in the past, not because it is well-represented on the screen in this particular case. There is minimal dialogue in “The American”, in fact, and it seems clear that Corbijn’s direction, as a man trained and highly skilled in artistic, beautiful imagery, has pointed the film away from explanation and toward representation. Shot after shot is lit perfectly. Shot after shot gives us all the angles. The film is truly a feast for the eyes, yet Corbijn seems to prefer that his pictures not be overly muddled by discussion. For a visual artist who has never worked extensively with dialogue and exposition, this is understandable. “The American” takes a hit from it, though.
By no means does the film utterly fail. The tone and pacing are perfect. The tension created by the abounding silence is scintillating at times. The leap required to care about Jack is longer than it ought to be, but there can be no doubt that his situation is dire. Father Benedetto (Paolo Bonacelli), a priest in the town Jack has taken up short residence in, attempts to befriend and suss out Jack, and this relationship accounts for the only fairly extensive discussions in the film. Benedetto is understandably concerned for and about Jack, while Jack is wary of and somewhat ruefully bemused by the priest. Their discourse shows Jack more obviously as guarded and not particularly unique… one gets the sense that in the world of The American, this very priest periodically deals with intrusions by wandering assassins in his little mountain town. Standard fare in the countryside of Italy, one might surmise. That’s not to say that Benedetto isn’t alarmed at Jack, especially later in the film when he witnesses some of Jack’s handiwork. The point is that the character and story are not represented as unique to this film. An audience knows Jack because an audience knows this type of story, and an audience cares for Jack because an audience cares for George Clooney, not because the film has fully done its job.
What “The American” does do well is all about framing and tension. Clooney slides his angular jaw into each shot like the pro he is, and Corbijn’s ability to create and capture shots is masterful. Certainly his apprenticeship as a still and music video photographer has furnished him with a singular ability and style. Purely from a visual standpoint, “The American” is delicious. One gets the sense that if Corbijn had been allowed to make a film with no dialogue, with the only audio provided by Herbert Gronemeyer’s fine score, he would have gladly agreed. That may indeed have been a better film, and it certainly would have fit more seamlessly into his life’s work so far. If Corbijn truly wants to become a great director, he ought to pay more attention to how dialogue intertwines with his visuals. A full understanding of that element is what keeps “The American” from being a great film.
Directed by: Anton Corbijn
Release Date: September 1, 2010
Run Time: 103 Minutes
Country: USA
Rated: R
Distributor: Focus Features
