The Quiet American
Director/Star/Co-Writer Roberto Benigni delivers our first "submission" film with this truly god-awful movie of the classic fairy tale. Cashing out on the international fame he achieved with Life is Beautiful, Benigni used all his new found clout to get Miramax to help bankroll this, his dream project, that plays more like a nightmare for anyone who has the misfortune to watch it. With grand intentions, Roberto announced at the start of production that he was going to bring the story of Pinocchio back to Italy where it belongs with his definitive cinematic version of the tale. It seems Roberto resented the fact that many in the world think Pinocchio is an American story cooked up by Disney when in reality it originates from Italy. An ambitious undertaking, to be sure, considering Disney's Pinocchio is arguably the finest animated feature the studio ever produced and has been a beloved family classic for over sixty years.
Maybe a more accomplished director could have pulled this off, but all the accolades heaped on Roberto appear to have gone to his head, and he's bitten off way more than he can chew with this project. His incredible miscalculations begin with the disastrous casting of the title character. Roberto, the director -- against all rational thought -- believed Roberto, the multi-talented actor, would be perfect for the title role. This huge bit of miscasting has you, the poor bastard viewer, wondering "how?" and "why?" every time the frantic, balding Benigni hops onto the scene. Looking, in his pointy hat and crème tutu ensemble like the Italian cousin to the beloved internet Peter Pan http://www.pixyland.org/peterpan/, Benigni plays the most unconvincing man-boy in cinema since Martin Short in Clifford (don't remember that one? count your blessings). Adding an extra bizzaro factor to his performance is the drab dubbing of the film, courtesy of Miramax. Watching Benigni throw a tantrum while the squeaky, boyish voice of Breckin Meyer sputters out of his mouth further distances us from the character and destroys any small amount of charm Benigni might have been able to wring out of his performance with his own distinctive (some would say irritating) voice. It's not just Roberto's "what the hell?' interpretation of Pinocchio that's off, almost all the casting in the film is questionable. Roberto's real-life wife, Life is Beautiful's, Nicoletta Braschi, while having an elegant screen presence, is a little, shall we say, long in the tooth to play the ageless blue fairy. Also, the onscreen chemistry between Benigni and Braschi that worked so well in the previous film now backfires and makes the scenes of them together almost kinky in an incestuous way. It seems everyone is the wrong age in this story; Benigni casts all the children roles with adults, probably in a failed attempt to make his own performance not seem so jarring. Only Peppe Barra as the Jiminy Cricket character (here known only as cricket), looking like a green Erich Von Sroheim, makes any kind of impression. He brings an amusing, sarcastic edge to his portrayal.
The torture doesn't end there however; the look of the film is as bland as the performances. This is especially sad, as the film is the highest budgeted (45 million) in Italian history and Benigni worked with world-class talent straight down the line, from Fellini's favorite production & costume designer, the late Danilo Donati (Satyricon, Amarcord), to director of photography Dante Spinotti (Heat, Last of the Mohicans). Benigni obviously doesn't know how to utilize the talent he's hired for the project and the film has a hazy, cheap look. The films pacing is listless and the plot meanders along from episode to episode, tiredly recounting the very familiar story with very few twists to engage the viewer. This snail's pace is especially deadly for a film that is geared primarily for children. I pity the fool that takes the kiddies to this one! If anything, all Benigni has accomplished with this train wreck is the opposite of his original intention. I can imagine frazzled viewers racing home from the cinema and immediately popping in the Disney Pinocchio in order to get this lifeless misfire out of their heads as quick as possible!
Don't say I didn't warn you...
I found this Phillip Noyce directed film of the Graham Greene novel not bad, just not that involving. The setting is the simmering powder keg of Vietnam in the early 1950's and the plot revolves around a world weary British journalist played by the always pitch-perfect Michael Caine. Caine's character, Thomas Fowler, has settled into a comfortable routine in Saigon, milking a salary from the far away London Times as their Vietnam correspondent while only scratching out a few stories a year. With all this free time, Fowler's attention is focused on his young mistress Phoung (Do Thi Hai Yen). Having long since given up trying to make a difference as a journalist, Fowler projects all his lost passion on his relationship with this mesmerizing young beauty. Fowler's world is rocked forever when handsome Alden Pyle (Brendan Fraser) enters the picture. Claiming to be a do-gooder coming to bring medical aid to the war-torn country, this "quiet American", immediately sets off Fowler's suspicions that he's more than he seems. Even worse, Pyle takes an immediate interest in Phoung and Fowler faces the devastating reality that he may lose the only thing that matters to him in the world, his young trophy girlfriend. What follows is a thickening of the plot that involves not just the love triangle between the three leads but also the French occupiers of Vietnam, the communist sympathizers jostling for power, and the ever-growing American interest in the country.
Sometimes bland pack director Noyce (Saint, Sliver) can't be faulted for a lack of ambition, his desire to tell both a personal and political story here is commendable. The problem is that he's unable to juggle both stories successfully. The backbone of the story should be the complex relationship between Pyle and Fowler, with its mixture of friendship, rivalry, and finally, hatred. But Noyce seems more interested in telling the story of the fragmented Vietnam of the early 1950's with its explosive politics than the human story. Not surprisingly then, these cloak & dagger plot elements are the most effective in the film. For me, the most interesting part of the movie is the middle of the picture that deals with Th'e (Quang Hai) a charismatic General that appears out of nowhere and is instantly seen as a threat to both the communists and the French. The adventure Fowler gets into when he investigates Th'e is exciting and suspenseful. This is the type of thing Noyce has done well before in the two Tom Clancy films he directed (Patriot Games & A Clear and Present Danger). As a matter of fact, a bombing in a busy town square in this film recalls a similar scene in Patriot Games. The problem here is that Fowler is not Jack Ryan; he's a much more complicated and ambiguous figure than Tom Clancy's patriotic white-collar hero. Noyce just isn't the right man to tell the delicate, intimate story of Fowler and his complicated relationship with the duplicitous Pyle and their shared obsession with Phoung.
The best political films always convey their message subtly, giving us compelling characters to latch unto while sliding in the political message as subtext. Just look at that much more successful adaptation of a Graham Greene novel, The Third Man. Like The Quiet American, this story, is at heart, a love triangle set against a tumultuous political backdrop. In the case of the The Third Man it was post World War II Vienna. One of the brilliant things about that earlier film is how vividly it creates its setting while still remaining a highly entertaining romantic thriller. The Quiet American has none of the heart, humor or charm of that earlier masterpiece. Just like The Third Man, the lead character is a docile, sad sack protagonist (Joseph Cotton) matched by an enigmatic, charming, but ultimately morally questionable character (Orson Welles). Caine is perfect in his role but Brendan Fraser is no Orson Welles, to say the least. His boyish Pyle's transition from "gee whiz" goodwill worker to mastermind CIA agent is unconvincing. This whole part of the film is listless and cold. It's almost as if Noyce feels he has to film the drama in the most straightforward, artless manner possible in order to convince the audience that he's now a serious filmmaker after his foray into big, dumb, Hollywood action films. This results in a morose, slowly unfolding story, that sadly, by the conclusion I didn't care that much about.