We’re in Sweden when the film opens on Edward/Jack (George Clooney)… romantic cabin in the woods, he’s in love, she’s naked (whoever she is) and moments later, she’s dead. He turns on her when assassins turn on him. We think “this is going to be good.” For a moment anyway. Then we’re in Italy and Clooney is being hired to do some sort of weapons deal with Mathilde (Thekla Reuten) one of many Bond-ish type girls who will encounter or bed Clooney (which is interesting because for the small town population of 50 people, about 10 of them are drop-dead-model-gorgeous.) In this turns-out-to-be-pathetic art house thriller, we laugh in unintended moments. Is it because the soundtrack is too much for so little a plot? Is it because the music creates drama where there isn’t any? Or is it because they were aiming for – perhaps thinking this would be – another Michael Clayton? Turns out they weren’t thinking at all. They had too much breast on the brain. The only serious moments are with a sexy prostitute named Clara (Violante Placido) who makes all of Clooney’s mishaps seem worth it as she seduces the big screen. And us. One and half tiaras for the hot T & A and picturesque towns.
