Clive Owen, who appears to be on a crusade to beef up his action credentials ever since taking the lead role in 2007s ludicrously violent Shoot 'em up, adds espionage skills to his leading-man repertoire in Tom Tykwer's globe-trotting thriller The International.
His face set in a permanent grimace, Owen plays Interpol agent Louis Salinger who is investigating the murky and potentially criminal activities of an investment bank run by Danish chief executive Jonas Skarssen (Ulrich Thomsen).
Accompanied by Naomi Watts, who plays New York's assistant district attorney, Owen travels between Berlin, Milan, New York and Istanbul to uncover crucial evidence required to convict the nefarious banker for illicit arms-dealing. These urban environments are gorgeously shot by Tykwer, who successfully captures the unique feel and atmosphere of the different cities as well as the sterile coldness of modern corporate buildings. But whilst Tykwer has a good eye for framing the perfect take, he gets little out of his actors and the sub-standard performances jar against the beautifully shot landscapes.
Owen, who appeared so versatile in his early roles, is becoming increasingly one-note and in this film he simply reads his lines with little emotion and commitment: even in the most intense action scenes, he appears barely more than mildly annoyed, let alone frightened. Watts is similarly unimpressive, and fails to add an ounce of character to her role. Admittedly, neither actor is helped by the clunky script, which forces the leads to deliver exposition instead of realistic dialogue and which includes such philosophical gems as "sometimes you find your destiny on the road you took to avoid it".
Where the film really falls down, however, is with the plot, which asks the audience to buy into the premise that bankers are frighteningly efficient criminal masterminds. In a year that has seen banking profits tumble and financial institutions collapse, it is simply too much to believe that a financier could orchestrate a civil war when it has become obvious that modern bankers cannot even balance their own books.
The International, with its fantastical plot, wastes what was an opportunity for a timely examination of the failings of modern finance. In an age when business news is hogging the headlines and people are becoming increasingly financially literate, the film offers only superficial insights into the corporate world, which was much better examined by Tony Gilroy in Michael Clayton.
Taken simply as Saturday night hokum, however, The International is mindlessly enjoyable, and the exhilarating set-piece gunfight staged in New York's Guggenheim Museum easily matches anything in the Bourne trilogy and is worth the ticket price alone.
His face set in a permanent grimace, Owen plays Interpol agent Louis Salinger who is investigating the murky and potentially criminal activities of an investment bank run by Danish chief executive Jonas Skarssen (Ulrich Thomsen).
Accompanied by Naomi Watts, who plays New York's assistant district attorney, Owen travels between Berlin, Milan, New York and Istanbul to uncover crucial evidence required to convict the nefarious banker for illicit arms-dealing. These urban environments are gorgeously shot by Tykwer, who successfully captures the unique feel and atmosphere of the different cities as well as the sterile coldness of modern corporate buildings. But whilst Tykwer has a good eye for framing the perfect take, he gets little out of his actors and the sub-standard performances jar against the beautifully shot landscapes.
Owen, who appeared so versatile in his early roles, is becoming increasingly one-note and in this film he simply reads his lines with little emotion and commitment: even in the most intense action scenes, he appears barely more than mildly annoyed, let alone frightened. Watts is similarly unimpressive, and fails to add an ounce of character to her role. Admittedly, neither actor is helped by the clunky script, which forces the leads to deliver exposition instead of realistic dialogue and which includes such philosophical gems as "sometimes you find your destiny on the road you took to avoid it".
Where the film really falls down, however, is with the plot, which asks the audience to buy into the premise that bankers are frighteningly efficient criminal masterminds. In a year that has seen banking profits tumble and financial institutions collapse, it is simply too much to believe that a financier could orchestrate a civil war when it has become obvious that modern bankers cannot even balance their own books.
The International, with its fantastical plot, wastes what was an opportunity for a timely examination of the failings of modern finance. In an age when business news is hogging the headlines and people are becoming increasingly financially literate, the film offers only superficial insights into the corporate world, which was much better examined by Tony Gilroy in Michael Clayton.
Taken simply as Saturday night hokum, however, The International is mindlessly enjoyable, and the exhilarating set-piece gunfight staged in New York's Guggenheim Museum easily matches anything in the Bourne trilogy and is worth the ticket price alone.