REVIEW: ‘The American’

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It was clear fifteen minutes into Anton Corbijn’s “The American” that the movie was not going to match its action-based promotion.  Trailers promise action, beautiful women, and George Clooney as an assassin with the apprehensive eyes of a seasoned killer.  Two out of three isn’t bad.  There are beautiful women, and George Clooney does have the eyes of a killer…a lady killer.  But the story’s pacing is the most surprising discrepancy.  TV ads compare Clooney’s Jack to Jason Bourne, but it’s important to realize this tale is not at all like the bone-crunching, fast-edit action of a Jason Bourne film.

“The American” starts off strikingly: after a near-silent introduction to Jack and the first of his lovely lady “friends”, Corbijn throws the audience right into Jack’s life of espionage.  The visuals in this first scene establish the mood for the rest of the movie: cold, bleak images of snow mirror the physical surroundings and emotional states of all involved.   Jack is a professional, so when he senses something out of place, he quickly leaves three bodies in the snow and flees from Sweden to Italy.

The brevity of this first scene only shows us that Jack is not a man to take for granted,  yet he and his work are still a mystery.  Once in Rome he is told to hide out in a small mountain town until his next assignment is ready.  His handler (John Leysen) informs him that the new job involves building a gun instead of killing.  He is contacted by a mysterious woman named Mathilde (Thekla Reuten), who has commissioned the weapon and requires very strict specifications.  Jack spends much of the rest of the movie building it. While the plot slinks along, Jack (now going by “Edward”) beds a prostitute named Clara (Violante Placido) and slowly allows her into his life, though he was been warned to keep his head down, not to talk to any townspeople and “don’t make any new friends”.   But Jack does his own thing, because he’s a lean, mean, killing machine, and if he wants to take a lover or have dinner with the town’s elder priest (Paolo Bonacelli), then that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Jack spends a majority of the film on his own tinkering with his assignment, and the dialogue is so minimal that it’s surprising when he does speak.  Clooney brings Jack up from a very deep place, and it’s easy to get drawn into his impressively still and quiet performance.  He plays the character entirely through his eyes, every emotion pouring from them as Jack’s situation delicately unfolds.  His vulnerability lies right under the surface of the hardened professional, as he is a fragile man constantly placed on the brink.  Clooney’s attention to detail and reserved acting carries the movie when other elements fail to, such as the interminable pacing and seemingly non-existent story.

“The American” is not intended for action lovers, as it demands the viewer’s full attention and strictest patience.  Once the climax reveals itself, the layers Corbijn has placed consistently throughout the film peel away, and what is left is a surprisingly adept character study.