Wednesday, September 15, 2010
My wife and I saw The American last night. We left mostly disappointed. The film is philosophically contrived. My favorite movie of all time is Antonioni's L'Avventura, a black and white visual masterpiece that's slower to watch than reading Kant's Metaphysics of Morals. I also have a man-crush on George Clooney. Therefore, you can't accuse me of being an ADD American who doesn't appreciate good art or the salt and pepper handsomeness of Danny Ocean. Clooney wasn't himself in this film. I don't think he can pull off gloomy. He's just too goddamn good-looking to be bummed out or broody.
The only thing that saved The American from being a complete waste of my time was the cinematography. The beauty of Abruzzo has personal aesthetic value for me. My grandfather was born there. He was born in the town of Introdaqua where many of the scenes are shot. I never met my grandfather. He died of stonecutter's lung when my father was only 18. Many of his cousins still live there. I'd like to move back, but there's no ocean and thus no surfing. I'd consider seeing The American a second time, but there's a George Clooney in the film and no Danny Ocean.