Pleaaaasseee Clooney. 😉
Hell, the only reason we went to the opening show of the new Hollywood film The American which released in U.S. theaters today is George ‘Acme of Charm‘ Clooney.
Hell, no other reason is necessary when you got Clooney.
Nice Crime Thriller
By the standards of the schizophrenic Bourne franchise, The American is a sedate, almost sedentary thriller.
But then a sedentary Clooney provides us infinitely more pleasure in 1 hour-42 minutes than the hyper-kinetic Matt Damon could in a thousand Bourne films.
The American begins in snow-clad Sweden and ends by a brook in the Abruzzo region of Italy.
Playing an assassin whose name we’re unsure of (is it Jack, Edward or the quaint Mr.Butterfly?), Clooney is ordered to go to a quiet village in the mountainous Abruzzo area of Italy, not far from Rome, and lie low after an ambush attempt on his life in Dalarna, Sweden leaves three people dead in the snow.
Since it’s Clooney we’re dealing with, y’all know who killed the three people in the snowy fields of Sweden, right?
Although slow-paced, there’s an air of intrigue about the whole movie.
We don’t know the background of Clooney’s character nor that of his boss Pavel or why the Swedes are after him.
No sooner does our assassin settle down in the little village pretending to be a photographer, then his mysterious boss Pavel tasks him with a new assignment – Crafting a special gun for a customer.
Now, we espy our hero working on crafting the gun for the mysterious customer, the pretty Mathilde.
A weapon with the firing capacity of a sub-machine gun and the range of a rifle with a silencer, that’s the requirement. For what purpose is again shrouded in secrecy from the audience and from the craftsman himself who expects to read about the event in the Tribune after the gun is put to use.
Although our assassin prefers solitude given his profession and his current situation, the village priests Father Benedetto (Paolo Bonacelli) thrusts himself on him. A crafty, observant character, the priest tells Jack/Edward:
You have the hands of a craftsman, not an artist.
The quiet village with its narrow passages, small nooks, serpentine steps, homes high above and dim lights in the dark add to the tension and uneasiness.
There’s a constant sense of unease and foreboding without the actual bang-bang shots fired every 30-seconds (as in the Bourne or Bond movies).
What a Hooker!
What’s a movie about a dark figure without a lovely gal in his bed. No fun, right?
So we have the ethereally beautiful hooker Clara (Violante Placido) with the 34B work-of-art tits that – Thank God for that – we see repeatedly.
We see them darlings in the pinkish-hues of the dark room and we seem them babies swaying in the full light of day by the brook. Jesus surely broke the mold after creating ’em titties. 😉
Clara wants to make a new life with our man. No, says the man. Not too long afterward, our man wants to make a new life with the girl.
Well, does it all work out for our Jack/Edward/Mr.Butterfly considering the Swedes have found out his hideout and his boss too doesn’t seem too pleased with him?
For the legions of Clooney fans, The American proffers more evidence of his formidable acting talent, one that’s already landed him an Oscar. As for the non-Clooney fans, let’s just say they’re better off visiting their shrinks.
The photography, as befitting the photographic background of director Anton Corbijn, is a charm. The mist-covered (or is it the clouds) mountains, the narrow-passages in the villages, Clooney at work in his room, the dim-lit village et al are proof of a keen eye for the charming.
By the way, the movie is based on the novel A Very Private Gentleman by Martin Booth.
If there’s any reason why you should not see The American, a sane, brilliant mind like ours can’t think of it. Maybe, you schmucks can come up with a reason why you shouldn’t watch this fine film.