“The International”

Rated R for some sequences of violence and language.



“The International” is a lot like a sandwich with bipolar disorder; the bread is stale but the meat, in between, has a nice burst of flavor. I think that is a mixed metaphor, but I will stand by it. I think it paints the write picture. (A corny pun there.) OK, I’ll stop.

The producers, writers and cast of “The International” must feel a little snake bit. When the film was test marketed, the folks who gave it a viewing said it was slow and boring … so the filmmakers added some scenes to put some zing into it. Also, they filmed it before the economy crashed. The enemy in “The International” is a greedy banking corporation eager to take over the world; an unstoppable band of brilliant megalomaniac schemers in pin stripes in their modern, gleaming buildings in the world’s capitals. The people who put this film together had no idea that a real banking collapse was forthcoming and, after the curtain was drawn back, we would discover that the wizards of money lending are not Machiavellian masterminds but sleazy pickpockets. But so it goes in the movie business. Rotten luck.

Louis Salinger (Clive Owen) a former, slightly disgraced, Scotland Yard inspector, now works for Interpol. He is sort of a neutered cop, one without the power to arrest, intimidate or instill fear in the shady world of international banking. He has held a grudge against a particular banking firm that seems to be a crime syndicate working its way into the weapons business. Just about the time he and his partner find a snitch ready to spill the banking beans, his colleague has a suspicious heart attack and drops dead. Salinger tries to get to the bottom of it, but everybody tells him to drop it.

Oddly … somehow … the New York City’s district attorney’s office is involved and the ADA, a pretty blonde named Eleanor Whitman (Naomi Watts), is involved. Naturally, they become a bank-crime fighting duo traipsing around the globe. This is the stale top piece of bread part of the movie. I don’t know how they did it, but the globe trotting comes off dull and sterile. I know it was on purpose, but his character’s obsession — is rather depressing.

Pretty soon an Italian, running for office on a reform ticket, is assassinated right before the hooded eyes of Clive/Lou. Naturally, the Italian police are in on it … so their investigation is the only investigation.

They know that there are a lot of bad guys in this conspiracy. The most intriguing, to me, is Wilhelm Wexler (played by veteran German actor Armin Mueller-Stahl). He plays a former East German official who now acts as head of security for the bank … but he didn’t scare me. He made me think of the proverbial “Onkel” Oscar who pushes the braunswiger down at the deli in Germantown. I just wanted him to give me a shiny nickel for the bubble gum machine while my mother took a gander at the liver.

Eventually we get to the good part. Clive and two NYC cops are in New York and go to the Guggenheim Art Museum. A huge gun fight breaks out and the bad guys and the good guys turn the building, built by Frank Lloyd Wright, into Swiss cheese. Zowie! This, in the action film business, is like a giant food fight at a wedding: bullet holes, crashing chandelier thingies and blood-gushing bodies everywhere. What fun.

Then we get to the bottom piece of stale bread which includes a rather bizarre speech by Clive/Lou. He appeals to the old Stasi dude, Onkel Oscar/Wilhelm. I swear, I would have thought Lou was a comrade the way he talked about the ideals of good ol’ East Germany. “Gott im Himmel !” My bad: I should have written: “Marx im Himmel!” No, wait, not sure a Commie believes in “Himmel.” Well, you get the idea.

I won’t spoil the ending — it actually made sense, but it was oddly anti-climactic, even though it has a nice piece of poetic justice and is a tiny bit of a surprise.

Like I opined in the first sentence: bipolar.

“The International” deserves only two and a half bow ties out of five.