The American

THE AMERICAN is a fine example of what a satisfying story can be. It is interactive and engaging cinema. It succeeds because of what it doesn’t show you rather than the opposite. George Clooney has become the go-to leading man when it comes to playing the quiet, subdued protagonist with seething inner turmoil. His character (who goes by many a name in this one) is in the people disposal business and he is very good at his craft. But unlike a character like Anton Chigurh (No Country for Old Men) Clooney’s character is weighed down by the collective baggage of his job. An acceptable job hazard for someone in that line of work.

Like a classic Sergio Leone film, the dialogue is sparse for almost three quarters of this movie as the camera focuses on Clooney and the small Italian village is is holed up in. He does a lot of things we see. It is clear in intent. His interactions with the townsfolk are all we need to get to know this man. He is there to do one job. One that is fairly simple in nature. But he is a man at a crossroads. Someone who might be ready to make a course correction. He wants the nightmares to go away. He wants to fully connect with real people. The tension band is slowly stretched in such a brilliant way that when it snaps you feel a collective sigh.

I won’t spoil the rest of this for you because films like this are rare in the era of loud, obnoxious cinema. The American is a fine example that action is not only louder than words, it is more profound and affecting. Maybe it’s because we as human beings spend most of our time thinking what we are going to do instead of actually doing.