The American: It’s a 4

I have a theory about this movie. It is so impossibly bad that I have to wonder how George Clooney could have gotten involved with it. Then it occurred to me. It’s a movie with one, and only one, even mildly attractive man and several extremely beautiful women shot in an impossibly charming and remote European village. Maybe Clooney just did the math. Because other than that I can’t see any reason anyone would be drawn to this script. In the words of Jerry Seinfeld, It’s about nothing.

The American (Clooney) goes by different names, but for the purposes of this review I will call him Jack. Jack is a bad guy…or not…he could be a good guy but let’s just assume. When he is discovered in a remote Swedish village by other bad guys, he kills them, and the lover he has taken, and flees. He ends up in a remote Italian village where his handler—what are the odds—manages to find him an assignment. A woman, Mathilde (Thekla Reuten), needs a very specific gun for what we can only assume is a very specific assassination. More than a killer, Jack is a gunsmith, and he proceeds to create her request. Meanwhile, a young prostitute named Clara (Violante Placido) has caught Jack’s eye.

    I would tell you more of the plot but there isn’t any. The film devolves into a nihilistic heap of pregnant pauses and nonsensical events. I get that it has a talented cast and a gorgeous setting and a well-respected director, but the emperor has no clothes. George Clooney is a beautiful man but the only difference between watching this movie and staring at the poster for two hours is the price of the ticket.