the american

Its loud, generic trailers misrepresented the quiet movie that Anton Corbijn's The American is. If Hemingway had directed a film, this would be it. It's not a Bourne- or Bond-esque action thriller; it has a lot more in common with Italian neorealist films than it has with those. The film begins abruptly and ends the same way, seemingly right in the middle of the story it is telling. There is no backstory given—throughout the film we have no idea why Clooney's character is in Sweden, then Italy, or who he is working for, or why "the Swedes" are after him. Elaborate "whos" and "whys" do not really matter for what The American is, or at least tries to be—muted character study rather than plot-driven actioner. It's probably the most artistic film to be given a wide release this year, but, that being said, it ultimately does not satisfactorily accomplish its goal. It does not delve quite deep enough to be entirely character-driven, and its sparse plot cannot carry the difference.

We are given the skeleton of a storyline—Clooney's character, Jack, is an assassin, and an expert at handling weapons. After the mysterious "Swedes" disrupt his quiet life with a lover in Dalarna, he goes back out into the field again, to complete another job for his nameless employer. This job takes him to the Abruzzo in Italy, where his encounters with a kindly priest and a beautiful prostitute motivate him to forsake his past and find peace—once he completes this final mission.

Jack's relationships with the priest and the woman, Clara, are the real keys to the film. His relationship with Clara, particularly, is nicely developed—a relationship that begins only with lust and selfishness eventually becomes something more meaningful and committed. His relationship with the priest suffers a little more.

The American does a good enough job of establishing that all men are sinners. It fails to show, however, that there is a savior. I kept waiting for Corbijn to build Jack's relationship with Father Benedetto to the point that that truth could be brought out—The American would be the best film of the year if he had. But instead Jack seems to accept that God is not interested in him, and Corbijn is content to leave it at that. Spoilers. At the climax of the film, Jack kills an assassin who has been targeting him. Leaving the blood-spattered body in the street, he turns towards Father Benedetto, who has come running up, and simply says, "Sorry, Father." He then drives away, and the film ends not long after—he never sees the priest again. It was a wasted opportunity, and ultimately it destroyed the film for me.

Director Corbijn has a background in photography, and the mood and visuals of The American are striking and beautiful. It is undeniably a well-crafted film that I do think pays tribute to Italian neorealism. Unfortunately, it has another thing in common with Italian film—excessive and unnecessary nudity. It is not the leering, ogling nudity of the atrocious Piranha 3D, but it still could have been easily toned down. Neither the violence nor the language are nearly as gratuitous.