The International (T. Twyker, 2009)

A couple weeks ago, I found myself struggling with what to see as it seemed I was surrounded my horror remakes (Friday The 13th, My Bloody Valentine 3-D), or typical chick flicks (He's Just Not That Into You, Confessions of a Shopaholic). So when I had the opportunity to see The International, a political thriller with a promising cast and acclaimed director, I jumped at it, thinking I was going to be subject to a rare early-year gem. What I received was a film that although masterfully shot, falls victim to self-absorbance and a pivotal phoned-in performance, resulting in a disappointing cinema experience.
The plot of The International is allegedly straightforward; an Interpol agent and a Manhattan assistant A.D.A. are attempting to expose the International Bank of Business and Commerce's (IBBC) role in an global arms dealing ring. However the film tries to separate itself from its familiar cat-and-mouse plot structure by means of intellectual realism (a few big words and pop culture references don't mean your plot could happen in our world) leading to a convoluted and jumbled second act. This sense of realism leads to other troubles for the film, as it begins to take itself too seriously and has to rely on rushed, heavy-handed dialogue and contrived jump cuts to tie together its plot threads. The awkwardness of these scenes are the antithesis to the fast pace; the film often feels sluggish and limps its way across the finish line long after the tape was broken. In the end, its typical, successful plot is lost to an unsuccessful attempt at originality, leaving the viewer unfulfilled as the credits rolled.
Another problem I had with the script was that it became fairly pretentious towards the end, trying to force a theme of circularity upon the viewer. We are never provided with a proper background for any of our characters, and the little information we receive tells us that both our Agent and our A.D.A. have been chasing this bank for a long time, and has been consistently thwarted by the bank's henchmen. This theme of circularity is also touched upon by employees of the IBBC, who proclaim that even if they are stopped, the cycle of gun trading and funding of war will never be. Circularity comes to an apex during an excellent shootout in the Guggenheim museum (more on that later), whose inside is a series of circular staircases and exhibits along those stairs. Themes in thrillers aren't uncommon at all, but in films such as The Bourne Identity, the theme is clearly illustrated by the movie's plot, not by the magniloquent dialogue and ostentatious events that weigh down The International.
The movie's billing is impressive, boasting three Oscar nominees in the three largest roles. Clive Owen (Children of Men, Inside Man) plays our Interpol agent, Louis Salinger. Salinger is a typical antihero, complete with flawed past and disregard for the rules. Salinger is like an unsuccessful version of 24's Jack Bauer and Owen embodies the role well, managing to portray a man on the brink of a meltdown without resorting to acting cliches such as pointless, dramatic yelling or a breakdown right before the climax. Naomi Watts (Mulholland Dr., 21 Grams) plays A.D.A. Eleanor Whitman, a cliche riddled character that serves no true purpose but to put a pretty face next to Owen. Watts seems extremely forced and uncomfortable in her role, leading to terrible chemistry with Owen. Some scenes between the two (especially one in an elevator that was supposed to provide comic relief) were painful to watch; for when does prosthetic and natural ever eloquently mix? Veteran actor Armin Mueller-Stahl (Eastern Promises, Shine) turns in a convincing performances as the IBBC's source of information, Wilhelm Wexler, but unfortunately is wasted in melodramatic moments and faux character arcs. The film never lives up to its billing, leaving this acting fan very disappointed with the film's two hour running time.
In their most common form, movies are meant to be entertainment, and The International excels in that realm. The visuals are extremely impressive, from long range shots of Owen (appearing tiny and inconsequential) walking into the grandiose, intimidating structure of the IBBC, to downright beautiful sequences on rooftops in Turkey and nighttime Berlin. In fact, the film is a great little world tour, with sequences in Manhattan, London, Italy, and the aforementioned Berlin and Turkey. The most impressive sequence in the film is the shootout inside the Guggenheim Museum in Manhattan. The museum's annular staircases, which run parallel to one another, make for a terrific setting for a breathtaking shootout in which nobody has cover, causing a chaotic spectacle pleasing on both technical and amusement levels. What is truly astonishing about the scene is that it was shot inside the actual museum, and no real damage came out of it. Seeing this feat, one of the better gunfights I've ever seen, on a big screen is worthy of the price of admission itself.
In the end, The International lacks the coherence of the Bourne trilogy and the style of the Bond films, leaving it to be a formulaic, familiar and unsuccessful thriller. However, its impressive photography and action sequences are enough for me to recommend this to anyone looking for an entertaining, albeit flawed movie.