"The American" hits its mark

Reserved, ruthless and self-tormented normally are not used to describe George Clooney, but for his performance in “The American”, few other words are appropriate. Clooney deserves forthcoming acclaim and praise for his newest role, which possibly could earn him his second Oscar nomination in as many years. And what’s more: his outstanding performance does not overshadow the meticulously crafted film.

“The American” pits Clooney as Jack, a tiring assassin ashamed of his past, but forced to continue living in his personal hell. We first are introduced to Jack living in a remote snow-covered Swedish cabin with an attractive young woman for whom he obviously cares, but insists on keeping at a relative distance. Quickly, his daily fear manifests itself in the form of trained killers attempting to eliminate him. Jack’s “skills” are unquestionable as he quickly does away with these foes, but it is his merciless and resolute decision regarding his female companion that startles and unnerves the audience, setting the stage for a very agitated 100 minutes.

Jack moves on to his next assignment — this time in the small mountain-top town of Sulmona, Italy, however, his experience in Sweden remains vividly painted in his mind. Jack is a professional, so his interaction is severely limited. He receives directions from Pavel (Johan Leyson), a cold-sounding man, over the phone. An observant audience should have misgivings about Pavel, and apparently, so too does Jack. Sulmona is not the town Pavel sends Jack, but rather the neighboring town … where Jack feels more comfortable amidst the maze-like layout of sidewalk-sized streets and stacked stone houses.

It is in Sulmona that the film begins to very carefully build to its climax. Jack’s first acquaintance is, of course, his next client, Mathilde (Thekla Reuten). She is a mysterious fellow assassin, sporting a different hair color with each appearance, whose interest is in Jack’s expertise within the field of long-range sniper rifles. Mathilde’s request is what keeps Jack busy for much of his time, but he manages to create relationships with two others.

Father Benedetto (Paolo Bonacelli) is a caring, friendly Catholic priest, intrigued by the strange American new to town. He senses something plaguing Jack and makes it his mission to save him. Jack, while welcome to the company refrains from asking forgiveness or renouncing Satan, as his mission is certainly not for the glory of God. Contrasting Fr. Benedetto’s redeemable role in Jack’s life is his new love interest and local prostitute, Clara (Violante Placido). Clara is an example of Jack’s weakness: love. Like with the woman in Sweden, he becomes attached and carries on a monogamous relationship with her — granted, a one-way monogamous relationship. In his own taciturn way, Jack is trying to save Clara.

“The American” is incredibly compelling and tense, despite little action and dialogue. Dutch director Anton Corbijn’s work is so meticulous that every shot has its reason for being there. Aerial shots of Jack driving his Fiat along the winding roads of mountainous Italian terrain are dramatically telling of this lonely outsider for whom we come to feel remorse. Between Fr. Benedetto and Clara, the opportunities for an exit to Jack’s hell present themselves, but he holds back, preferring to be just outside everyone’s emotional reach. His tattoos — one of special forces motto on his left shoulder and the other of a butterfly on his upper back — show a contradiction between the dark and justice-driven world from which he has come and the free and peace-filled world he hopes to someday see.

Like its lead character, the film suffers from some weaknesses. The relationship that forms between Jack and Clara is too fast-moving … almost as if trying to slip a dramatic version of the Richard Gere-Julia Roberts love affair from “Pretty Women” into this thriller. No man, in reality, would be completely smitten with a prostitute after just two sessions. There are also some tedious scenes, in which the audience is subjected to no dialogue and George Clooney’s shirtless physique working out. These scenes, while a possible incentive for women disinterested in assassin-themed suspense-thrillers to buy a ticket, only offer distant views of his tattoos in a couple of shots, but no additional substance to the film.

Fortunately for Clooney and Corbijn, the weaknesses are second-rate when compared with the carefully filmed art work that is the rest of the movie. With beautiful images, effective acting and surprisingly calming intensity, “The American” comes pretty close to a perfect hit.