Hoffman? Le Carre? two hours of cerebral spy thriller? What's not to like?
The film runs 2 hours and 1 minute, and for 2 hours I held on to that hope. Unfortunately in that last minute the lights come on and, well, there's a lot not to like.
For starters, the "man" is an enigma throughout the four day narrative. We know he's been in Russian then Turkish prison and he's been tortured. And that's the whole back story, not in a nutshell but the whole seven course meal. And we learn nothing more about him whether he's guilty of anything or innocent of everything. Nonetheless, Bachmann (Hoffman), the German police, and American intelligence are all keenly interested in him and his purpose in Hamburg. A day or two later, Bachmann has discovered his very mundane purpose, which, naturally as there wouldn't be much story otherwise, fits in perfectly with his plans to turn a benevolent but dirty local Islamic philanthropist. The police and Americans have other ideas - and that is the entire plot - not convoluted, subtle, nuanced, layered, or complex. It's just a bureaucratic turf war that turns out badly (maybe) because apparently there is no higher authority in German intelligence to resolve things, other than this sloppy, chain smoking, drunk.
These narrative problems appear to originate in the book, if Amazon reviews are any guide, but are compounded by Corbijn's direction, which, just as in the tedious "The American", combines brilliant visual with lifeless, stereotyped characterization.
The acting is fine and while the camera frame is Hoffman's oyster, playing a sloppy, chain smoking, drunk is not exactly a challenge, nor, sadly, a stretch.
The film runs 2 hours and 1 minute, and for 2 hours I held on to that hope. Unfortunately in that last minute the lights come on and, well, there's a lot not to like.
For starters, the "man" is an enigma throughout the four day narrative. We know he's been in Russian then Turkish prison and he's been tortured. And that's the whole back story, not in a nutshell but the whole seven course meal. And we learn nothing more about him whether he's guilty of anything or innocent of everything. Nonetheless, Bachmann (Hoffman), the German police, and American intelligence are all keenly interested in him and his purpose in Hamburg. A day or two later, Bachmann has discovered his very mundane purpose, which, naturally as there wouldn't be much story otherwise, fits in perfectly with his plans to turn a benevolent but dirty local Islamic philanthropist. The police and Americans have other ideas - and that is the entire plot - not convoluted, subtle, nuanced, layered, or complex. It's just a bureaucratic turf war that turns out badly (maybe) because apparently there is no higher authority in German intelligence to resolve things, other than this sloppy, chain smoking, drunk.
These narrative problems appear to originate in the book, if Amazon reviews are any guide, but are compounded by Corbijn's direction, which, just as in the tedious "The American", combines brilliant visual with lifeless, stereotyped characterization.
The acting is fine and while the camera frame is Hoffman's oyster, playing a sloppy, chain smoking, drunk is not exactly a challenge, nor, sadly, a stretch.