Another film about an assassin, but one wholly different in that it stars George Clooney (in his greatest role) as a meticulous gunsmith holed up in rural Italy for one last assignment. Playing one of the most impenetrable characters in recent memory, Clooney is brilliant as Jack/Edward, the centrepiece of Control director, Anton Corbijn's, The American. A film which feels ripped straight from the 70s, The American is a dense, layered, gorgeous picture, a tightly wound thriller more interested in detail than any film I can remember seeing. Lyrical, elegant, but genuinely thrilling, too, the film is expertly paced, with Corbijn taking time out to depict sequences most filmmakers would never dream of including in a straight crime film (a whole scene watching Clooney dismantle and clean his rifle, for instance). With hardly a frame or shot wasted, The American bridges the gap between peace and violence. Set against the beautiful backdrop of its idyllic setting, the film becomes a treatise on solitude as we see a samurai-like Clooney pay the price for a life of murder. He finds love, but it's too late; fate has spoken, and no amount of stunning Italian countryside can save him.
