Lumsdal Good , But It Is Overrated By Some

Sexyloutak Absolutely the worst movie.

Brenda The plot isn't so bad, but the pace of storytelling is too slow which makes people bored. Certain moments are so obvious and unnecessary for the main plot. I would've fast-forwarded those moments if it was an online streaming. The ending looks like implying a sequel, not sure if this movie will get one

Bob This is one of the best movies I’ve seen in a very long time. You have to go and see this on the big screen.

Floated2 The American seemed to have been praise from several critics and some fans alike. However, this film appears to be more of an acquired taste. It was relatively a success at the box office, mainly because of the George Clooney's starpower back then. This film feels at times very slow and there is much silence between the characters where it tries to build of suspense and tension but nothing seems to hit. Having been compared to the Bourne films, the American isn't on that level, as this film is quite boring in some sense and doesn't offer much of anything new. The scenery is quite nice and the acting is fine but overall, the film isn't that engaging and interesting.

upnworld.com Is the gentleman in "The American" exclusively an assassin? Leaving aside the template novel by Martin Booth, glimpses of the protagonist's life offered by to us by this pic, make it hard to tell. But there's no doubt that Jack (George Clooney in an iconic performance) has professional duties which include top-tier sharp- shooting. There's no famous world-leader to assassinate, but a bigger inward battle inveigles his target-sight. He spends his arc in this story like a stealthy alpha beast haunted by prescience of its doom - the hunter being the hunted.Director Anton Corbijn takes this slowly simmering thriller and sculpts it with exquisitely pared-down beauty and a gnawing sense of unease. Pic is a marvel of silences and reflective oases interspersed by vistas of a postcard-pretty Italian countryside town. There are only a few characters - all of them memorable. The plot crescendoes to a climax worthy of legendary stories - it's what happens when an European and an American work towards the universal good. The nudity in this movie is a stellar example of how it can be used to superbly seductive effect , rather than being a gratuitous display of private parts. There's a rouge-lit scene in a boudoir that is stunningly erotic , as the stationary lens looks from the bed-side at the upper bodies of gently writhing lovers. Interestingly, that same celestial nudity of Violante Placido (the real-life daughter of Simonetta Stefanelli who had slayed Michael Corleone with the 'thunderbolt' in 'The Godfather's Sicilian countryside) is put to different use in a secluded brook-side setting where she happily partakes of the sylvan waters and then beckons to her lover Jack uttering "Come!!" with child-like joy. Her body adorned only by itself, gels seamlessly with the au naturelle verdant world around them, but Jack, instead of plunging into the infinite frolic of carefree lovers in a private paradise, stands frozen. Haunted by past incident, he burns inside with sudden-onset doubts of whether this nymph is his lover or his enemy.The other lady who taxes Jack's attention is the afore-mentioned Mathilde - a spectacular specimen of the very rare breed which is the female assassin. Her seeming affiliations to a haute fashion ramp melt in a cool flash when she adjusts a rifle's screws swiftly and then proceeds to sharp-shoot like a champion. Sensing something in her, Jack displays not even a flicker of emotion towards her , always maintaining with Mathilde a cool business-like demeanour. When they're done with the job at hand, Mathilde reclines by the grass and breaks the ice for the one and only time when she teases him whether he's in the habit of bringing his woman here. Students of background music would do well to educate themselves in the subtle nuances of the minimalist masterpiece that is Herbert Gronemeyer's background score. Often you're barely aware that there's any music at all but the narrative flows flawlessly. When Jack asks Clara "Will you go away with me....forever?", it is a suddenly formed scene of great and moving romance - and Gronemeyer uses touches of good ol' violin in the background to achieve blockbuster emotion by the bushel. And at the end, the maddening agony of speeding towards your lover is captured with exquisite restraint by a piano (compare and contrast this with another style of music, also accompanying a car perilously careening towards the finish line in 'Rififi').What Anton Corbijn accomplishes here , is commensurate on some key levels, with what Ashok Mehta did with a differently designed film - 'Moksha' : a career lenser assuming the directorial baton to engineer a dazzling fusion of suspense and romance. When the anatomy of an uncompromizing thriller eventually dovetails into a devastatingly poignant love story at the climax, you know that it is a story- telling triumph, that we witness only once in a blue moon. More such @ Upnworld

bihesen This movie is maybe about something completely different, than what I read in a selection of user and critic reviews. I actually fell asleep during this movie, but to be fair I wasn't in movie mode, it was just something that was on. But I saw enough to find interest in the symbolism and when I woke up again I saw the end, and it was intriguing and strange Experience. Plots are often overrated in cinema, many movies convey meaning through visuals and symbolism, and this film, may be influenced by much European cinema, but its also like a music video , a long one. Its evocative of something else than what you witness on the surface. The plot is a basic structure, you only get the basics. The music is important in this movie and so is the characters, but most important is the title of the film . It is actually called The American , for a reason. The Clooney character is an American abroad, doing a dirty job, but finding a depth in his soul which ends up destroying him. Its sad. The man of the west is tough, pragmatic and determined, but unprepared for warmth and spirituality, and fails in transforming, he does everything for purpose a meaning, but does not realise its a sin, and when he does its too late. He is almost able to, but not Quite, The film seems to be saying, its sad that there is so little hope for the American masculine soul, that engages in sex for his own pleasure, and defies friendship for the sake of the job, who is smarter than the guys that try to get him, but ultimately does not recognise his own wounds and mortality, before its too late. The American. Thats what I read into it anyway.

patrick powell Here I am again, again at odds with the great and the good, all of whom seem to think The American is a marvellous film, as do a great many reviewers here. There are, of course, those - 'that's two hours out of my life I'll never get back, dude' and '20 bucks well wasted' - who think the whole thing is boring rubbish, but I'm not with them, either.The problem is that Dutch director Anton Corbijn tries to do something quite specific and simply doesn't carry it off: he seems to think that long, moody scenes where nothing happens except good ole' George Clooney gazing into the middle distance equate with meaning. That's what happens in all the films he admires and attempts to emulate, right? Well, no it doesn't. Or rather, yes, it does, if you can carry it off. Some do, but Corbijn - to my mind at least - misses by a country mile. And as this very slow film shades from improbability to impossibility, it begins to lose whatever goodwill you might have felt when you were a little intrigued by the initial setup. To be frank, the final ten minutes see the whole enterprise inexplicably degenerate from would-be art-house fodder into pretty damn mediocre TV melodrama.For Corbijn's film to work, even if he insists upon cramming it full of pseudo-meaningful languid scenes - in fact to justify all those pseudo-meaningful languid scenes - he must at least do the groundwork, prepare us, the viewers, in such a way that we accept almost without question, for example, the love affair between the nameless American assassin from nowhere and the rather too gorgeous tart. How he goes about doing so, I don't know, but some directors do and pull off what would be a high-wire act. Corbijn does not.I didn't buy the assassin and the tart falling in love and I didn't buy the philosophical talk about sinners the assassin has with the local parish priest. It doesn't ring true and as it doesn't ring true, the film simply fails on the level at which it wants to succeed. Clooney's American is simply too mute to be capable of forming a relationship with the tart or a friendship with the priest.In his meetings with the priest he says so little, I was surprised the old codger invited him for supper. There is no reason whatsover why he should be in the slightest bit interested in this man from apparently nowhere. As for the tart, she, too, I'm sure would have enjoyed a little more chat. In my experience women rather like that sort of thing. Perhaps she knew she was in a moody would-be art-house film. You never know.OK, if you want a thriller, you get one, and if you want mystery, you sort of get one, but I wanted Corbijn to deliver on what he promises, and he just doesn't.There are several glaring instances of outright sloppiness: this all takes place in Italy, a country I know a little, but its Italians are curiously mute. Usually, they are hard to shut up. Then there's the curious lack of interest the local police show in the obvious murder of some guy or other (we're told it's 'one of the Swedes' - more rather spurious mystifying) after a car and Vespa chase. Word would surely have got around about the mysterious American who arrived a few weeks ago who claims to be a photographer but he doesn't take any pictures at all. And he would have been one of the first the local rozzers would have called upon.But there you go: Corbijn's would-be Euro drama has got some of the pieces, but even those slot into the wrong spot. He simply fails to carry off what he attempts. Sad, but true.