The American (2010)
★★★ / ★★★★
Jack (George Clooney), an assassin whom his superior (Johan Leysen) considered to be losing his edge, took refuge in an Italian village after his last job had gone horribly awry. When Jack wasn’t gathering materials to create a weapon for a fellow contract killer (Thekla Reuten), he spent his time with a prostitute (Violante Placido) who wanted to get out of the countryside and a priest (Paolo Bonacelli) who sensed that Jack had something to hide. “The American,” directed by Anton Corbijn, was an atypical thriller about a hitman dealing with the prospect that his career was coming to an end. It was a great exercise in tone and mood. While I admit that I do agree, to an extent, with audiences’ critiques involving the pace being slow, I relished every second because once an action sequence was thrown on our laps, it was like we were paralyzed and there was nothing we could do but to stare at a bomb about to explode in under five seconds. I enjoyed the picture because it was surprisingly character-driven. Clooney did a wonderful job in balancing a character who wanted redemption because he suspected that perhaps the small village was his final destination. He wondered how lower-level assassins were able to find him even though he was convinced that he covered his tracks well. Did one of the people who he had a conversation with simply a disguise and he failed to noticed it? Paranoia started to seep through his mind. When he slept and heard a creak, grabbing a gun was an automatic response. He was like a machine or a weapon he so desperately wanted to perfect. Maybe he really was starting to lose it. On the other hand, even though deep inside he knew he wouldn’t be able to lead a normal life, he wanted to explore the possibility of settling down with a woman. She was warm, free-spirited, easy to form a smile–a complete opposite of himself; he was cunning, calculating, suspicious. The only time they seemed to be on the same page was when they shared a bed. But even then he had to pay for her services. As one scene switched tone from Jack’s personal to professional battles, Clooney would go from a nondescript man in a café to a predator whose one and only purpose was to catch his prey. In Doug Liman’s “The Bourne Identity,” my favorite scene was the silent duel between Matt Damon and Clive Owen in the yellow fields. All we could hear were rapid footsteps, bullets flying, our protagonist gasping for air, and the birds. “The American” captured that brilliance for the majority of its running time. However, it certainly isn’t for those without patience or audiences who are expecting adrenaline-fueled entertainment. I’m no assassin, but I think if they were to lead some sort of a life, it wouldn’t be far from Jack’s lifestyle.