Popcorn & a movie

Body of Lies

As far as next wave geo-politcal thrillers go, Body of Lies is standard theatrical entertainment. It traverses territories in Jordan and Iraq, wields over-zealous government official and stereotypical evil Islams, and sails through the twists and turns of a structural roller coaster ride. All the while it fails to challenge anything within you – like so many of its brethren, this film is passably entertaining but generically forgettable.
Directed by Ridley Scott and written by The Departed’s foul mouthed scribe William Monahan, Body of Lies aims for deception as an art form but settles for trickery as a cliché. Leonardo DiCaprio stars as Special Agent Ferris, a dedicated field op who’s lost his wife and sense of normalcy to a life abroad. He’s the street team for Russell Crowe’s bureaucratic Ed Hoffman, a man who treats the war on terror like fantasy football. He does the research, makes the calls, subs his players and watches the game, but he’s never REALLY a part of it. He’s involved, yet detached. And Ferris resents him for it.
This makes for an interesting face off, or would if that’s what the filmmakers were after. Instead it’s a subplot for standard CIA war play. Ferris infiltrates, deceives, works with assets and associates, even falls for “a local.” He plots, he lies, then succumbs to more plots and lies, until its all one big meaningless mess. Maybe that’s the point – when Ferris and Hoffman actually do face off, it seems to be (the idealist vs. the realist, or vice versa). But in the end none of it seems to matter. None of it FEELS like it matters.
Scott directs with experience, and hands his audience a nicely packaged product. Crowe has great fun with his paunchy, selfish role, transforming himself as well as he ever does. And DiCaprio turns in his standard entertainment, which these days seems to be nothing more than a passable performance coupled with a new accent/facial hair combination. But none of this can elevate the film above a script that anchors it in mediocre mud.
William Monahan has a knack for dialogue, but he’s never been able to capture any sense of truth in humanity. He won an Oscar last year for his Departed adaptation, if only because he stayed faithful to the original and made his characters sound cool (REALLY cool). Otherwise, his work is only ever surface deep, and remains treading water here. In a Monahan script, characters do only what the plot orders them to do, and women especially exist solely as plot devices. They are not people so much as extensions of that plot, there to guide the character to his next destination, to act only as “the twist” requires them to act.
It’s somewhat sad. But if you can get past that, or never be bothered by it in the first place, then Body of Lies can seem like a fine Hollywood thriller. At it’s best, it’s nothing more.