Movie Review: The American

by KYW's Bill Wine --

Will Americans respond to The American?

This star vehicle for George Clooney as the title character is so European in its locations and its rhythm, so stubbornly unwilling to fulfill generic expectations, that it may leave much of its audience feeling disenfranchised.

Which is a shame, because as difficult as it may be to love, it's easy to admire.

The American may look and sound like an action thriller.  But it's not, even though it's about a hit man and there's violence and a number of action scenes.  Think of it as an inaction thriller, if that's not too contradictory.

The "hit man on one last job" premise has been tired for years, but somehow this quietly contemplative drama, this often-still psychological suspense thriller and character study makes it seem freshly observed.

Part of the reason for that, of course, is Clooney, the wattage of whose effortless star power hasn't dimmed.  This is a film that needs a real star at its center -- and it's got one.

Clooney stars as a master assassin and arms expert who makes weapons for others when he's not on murderous assignments.  But he wants out of the life, desires something less dangerous and paranoid, especially when a job in Sweden ends harshly.

So he retreats to a small town in mountainous central Italy, on what he calls a "working vacation," where he can think about who might have organized and executed the ambush he just escaped from.

There he signs on for what he decides will be his last assignment, which involves constructing a weapon for a mysterious contact in need of his services named Mathilde, played by Thekla Reuten.

He is befriended by a local priest, Father Benedetto (Paolo Bonacelli), who offers him the forgiveness he seems to seek, and, acting with uncharacteristic abandon, begins an unexpected romantic relationship with Clara, a prostitute played by Violante Placido (at right in photo), who considers him a lover rather than a client.

Sustaining the mood, rather than pumping up the action or rushing the narrative, is what's important to Dutch director Anton Corbijn (Control), a noted still photographer and music video maker who here turns out a visually striking, confidently controlled, surprisingly static portrait of a guilt-ridden gunslinger.

Not for nothing do we catch a glimpse of a clip from a Sergio Leone western.

The spare screenplay by Rowan Joffe, based on the 1990 novel by Martin Booth, A Very Private Gentleman, has a few holes and refuses to explain everything, but proceeds surehandedly nonetheless, taking a patient approach to the material (some will find it infuriatingly slow) that rewards our patience if we're not clamoring for loud, explosive thrills.

The pleasures offered here are in the observant details, the sense of place, and the crisp execution.  Action junkies be forewarned.

Clooney, coming off a boffo-trifecta comedy year (Up in the Air, The Men Who Stare at Goats, and Fantastic Mr. Fox), packs away his charm and humor and instead reminds us of the dramatic chops that won him an Oscar for Syriana with a consummately understated and restrained performance.

His cold, driven, reticent, haunted protagonist is a marvel of tiny gestures that seem to be letting us see into the soul of a man resigned to his unhappy fate.

So we'll hit 3 stars out of 4 for The American, a minimalist drama about regret and redemption that is too restrained to be exciting, but is scenic and handsome and intriguing and arresting.