Column:
Sniper on the roof, fun in the theater
So, this is how you deftly execute a "Bourne" rip-off.
Published Feb. 19, 2009
Treading where so many have failed, Tom Twyker's "The International" is remarkable for a number of reasons.
Not only does it come on the heels of "Taken," another "Bourne" clone notable for being one of the most dreadful movies of the decade, it also features a performance so phoned-in from female lead Naomi Watts that you can practically hear her counting her money instead of practicing her lines.
To top it all off, nothing really happens. At maximum, there are four or five major plot advancements and only one extended action sequence. So it is working against these odds that Twyker and Clive Owen still manage to turn out of the most enjoyable and paranoia-inducing espionage thrillers in recent years.
Owen plays Louis Salinger, a weathered, possibly insane Interpol agent obsessed with figuring out what is going on at the -- take a deep breath -- International Bank of Business and Credit.
The IBBC is involved in all sorts of shady dealings with the likes of Hezbollah, China and Italy, none of which are ever fully explained. All the audience really needs to know is that it involves controlling debt and laundering missiles.
But Clive knows enough, and after he suspects them of poisoning his partner he goes into overdrive to expose them. Only there's a problem; "anyone who's ever been in a position to move against this bank has either ended up dead or disappeared."
So, yes, the plot is not only confusing but also a little played out. But this is where "The International" unexpectedly reaps its greatest rewards -- by sticking infinitesimally close to the "Bourne" playbook instead of straying from it and stretching for something new.
Like "Bourne," Twyker realizes that it's not always the action, but the intrigue. There are so many different moments in "The International" where you expect a sniper bullet to tear through Owen's neck or a bomb to blow up Watts' car that you'll find yourself playing spy for days afterwards.
There are also European capitals -- lots and lots of gorgeous European capitals. And gorgeous is a recurrent theme. Twyker shoots his film in a manner that lets it breathe -- loading it with panned, elevated shots that feel expensive and look expansive. He knows not to suffocate his actors and scenes by putting the camera up their noses and cutting every two seconds.
And where "Taken" followed a painfully linear path, "The International" is willfully confusing but never confounding. Its plot may be absurd from the word "go" and its host of Bond-esque villains may often speak in circles, but neither ever fails to be badass or elicit emotion.
It also doesn't hurt that its lone, aforementioned extended action sequence, a shootout at the Guggenheim in New York, is the most breathless and thrilling one in recent memory.
"The International" knows its limits, and by never venturing beyond them, it thrills endlessly where others routinely fail.
