The latest entry in the cottage industry of films about aging and tired hit men who just want out of the business, but have to do “one last job” which inevitably becomes more complicated than anticipated is The American, starring George Clooney, and based on the novel “A Very Private Gentleman” by Martin Booth. It is hard to know what to say beyond that every twist and turn of the plot, including its ending, is entirely predictable. The movie is freighted down with portentousness and an affectless performance by Clooney, perhaps in the hope that its pretention to seriousness can overcome, and perhaps compensate for, the obvious lack of originality. The Italian scenery is gorgeous — almost the entire movie takes place in the Abruzzo region — but The American wastes the talent of everyone in it.
We saw this on our last Sunday matinee (as in, won’t make that mistake again). While I am sure Chris and I saw the same movie–unlike the 80somethings in the theater with us–neither Pete nor I disliked this as much as Chris. Perhaps we don’t get out often enough.
Some quotes from our fellow movie goers:
* Upon the removal of clothing leading to a full frontal (female) shot: “Oh my Lord!”
* During the sex scene, lots of grumbling (even though it serves to illustrate his character). One woman even called her a slut. Pete wanted to explicate for her.
* When the fourth assassin is killed, “I bet that other guy [Pavel] did it.”
So apparently on some level this “obvious lack of originality” didn’t spoil it for everyone.
The whole butterfly bit was indeed heavy-handed. Still I can complain about Clooney’s acting; it wouldn’t make much sense for a hitman to be full of affect.
Pete and I agree, it wasn’t anything new, but we were happy that people were still willing to make movies that moved so slowly and were that atmospheric. We enjoyed it.
Sorry, that should read: Still I CAN’T complain about Clooney’s acting; it wouldn’t make much sense for a hitman to be full of affect.
yay nikki!
I’m a sucker for the tired hit man genre, so I enjoyed this quite a bit, even if it can’t touch the supreme example of that genre Le Samourai. I appreciate a film that isn’t loud and doesn’t have to tell the idiot viewer everything. Those poor old folks–so many years of film watching and they didn’t twig to the fact that Carla was working in a brothel? The slut! Oh my Lord! another strength of the film is its selection of unknown top-notch European birds (as Pete might say?)
[Spoilers; Questions for People who have seen the film]
Yes, the ending was predictable but what else could happen to such a morally questionable figure once he decides he’s “out.” I would recommend to all hit men that they don’t tell their bosses that they are “out.” I’ve always appreciated the noir genre’s bracing cynicism toward work, as I believe it applies to academia as well (which might benefit from a bloody culling every so often): Your bosses don’t care and, in fact, will dispose of you happily once your usefulness is over. Get them before they get you, if possible. Did Edward/Jack booby trap the gun out of a growing conscience (he doesn’t want to see the mayhem in the Tribune?) or out of self-preservation? Did the woman in Sweden set him up or did he kill an innocent? I like that the film leaves these elements ambigious/unanswered. Most of the portentiousness came from the priest character who may not have been entirely necessary. We are all sinners indeed. However, it’s a nice touch that Jack/Edward has to apologize to the priest after leaving a bloody corpse in the midst of the procession.
regarding “affect,” Alain Delon in Le Samourai makes George Clooney’s character seem like Sid Caesar (or to milk the Jewish comedian angle, like Jerry Lewis in the last hours of the telethon).
Speaking of Jerry, I turned on the telethon accidentally only to see……yes, you guessed it, Charo! goochie goochie or coochie coochie? 100 and still Samba-ing! wow.
Then Jerry launched into a long speech about how many kids had died while he has been doing the telethon. It was quite a heart-wrencher. Then he introduced some poor spokeswoman and he wasn’t quite overcome enough by the depth of his loss to forget to add an old-school jab “Try to follow that!” When the dinosaurs of show biz are finally all gone, who will bring us this bracing combination of hostility, sentimentality, ego power, self-loathing and charisma?
wikipedia says “cuchi cuchi.”
Did Edward/Jack booby trap the gun out of a growing conscience (he doesn’t want to see the mayhem in the Tribune?) or out of self-preservation?
I’ll say self-preservation.
I assumed self-preservation.