Three stars. Rating: PG-13, for relatively mild war violence, and fleeting profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.7.14
What a disappointment.
Despite the considerable charm of
George Clooney and his fellow scene-stealers, this is a flat and uninvolving
film.
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| Knowing that time is running out, Stokes (George Clooney, foreground) and Granger (Matt Damon, right) scramble to protectively wrap artworks prior to moving them to safety. They're assisted by, background from left, Epstein (Dimitri Leonidas), Garfield (John Goodman) and Savitz (Bob Balaban). |
The fault lies with the graceless
script, which leaves the impression that we’re watching the Reader’s Digest
condensed version of a much longer miniseries. This two-hour film dips only
briefly into a dozen or so potentially fascinating incidents, any one of which
could have been expanded into a taut, exciting narrative; as it is, we get only
the “calm” bits, leaving the impression that all exciting scenes were
confiscated and dumped elsewhere.
Clooney deserves the blame; aside
from starring and producing, he also directed and co-wrote the script with
longtime colleague Grant Heslov. They’ve done a poor job of adapting the 2010
nonfiction book by Robert M. Edsel and Bret Witter: The Monuments Men: Allied
Heroes, Nazi Thieves and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History.
Edsel also co-produced the 2006
documentary, The Rape of Europa, which covered the same territory in a vastly
more satisfying manner.
Part of the problem is Clooney’s
apparent desire to transplant the droll Ocean’s Eleven vibe into this grim
World War II setting, while also conveying the barbaric behavior of Nazis who
cheerfully practiced human and cultural genocide. It’s a bit jarring to smile
at some witty banter between Bill Murray and Bob Balaban at one moment, and
then, in the next, be confronted by barrels containing gold fillings extracted
from the teeth of thousands of holocaust victims.
Mostly, though, I lament the
utter absence of suspense. This is a fascinating, fact-based story that should
have kept us at the edge of our seats. Clooney’s film, however, is a jokey
affair that meanders throughout Western Europe: more travelogue than drama.
The saga begins in 1943, when
Harvard art historian Frank Stokes (Clooney) briefs President Roosevelt on the
pressing need for the Allies to avoid destroying European civilization, in
their efforts to save it. By this, Stokes means that more care must be taken to
preserve the cultural heritage of these various countries: their art and
museums; their churches, cathedrals and synagogues; their architectural
marvels.
As Edsel mentions, in the press
notes, the Allies very nearly destroyed, entirely by accident, da Vinci’s “The Last
Supper” in August 1943.
