The Tourist (Review)
Wednesday, 27th April 2011, 11:15

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There are some films which are so heavily marketed that it is almost impossible to go to the cinema without seeing a trailer for the film or sit through a commercial break without a TV spot appearing. The most recent of these was The Tourist which seemingly relied on star power to attract viewers as all of the attention was on Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie which, if I remember correctly, no mention of the name Florian Henkel von Donnersmarck whose previous film, The Lives of Others (his feature-length debut) won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film, beating Guillermo del Toro's sublimePan's Labyrinth. Anyway, I digress. Despite all the publicity, I didn't see The Tourist at the cinema (partly because of the myriad trailers) so, now released on DVD and Blu-ray, now's my chance.

The Tourist begins in a sundrenched Parisian square where a British citizen, Elise Ward, is under a huge amount of scrutiny and surveillance, courtesy of the French police who are working with Scotland Yard, stops for a cup of tea at a café. With a van full of police watching her every move and others, seated nearby, relaying everything she says back to their boss in the van, leading to some confusion when a waiter thinks they also ordered tea because they were repeating Elise's order. During her breakfast, she is given an envelope by a bicycle courier (later arrested because he is suspected of being one of Elise's confidants) and the letter from her ex-lover and police suspect, Alexander Pearce, tells her to board a train to Venice. Having burnt the latter, she leaves the table and sets off but, in Scotland Yard, Inspector John Acheson supervises an elaborate procedure in which burnt fragments of the latter are treated, scanned and then manipulated by him on his computer so he can figure out the instructions and have men on the correct train.

The letter instructed Elise to find someone about the same height and build as Pearce and convince the police he is Pearce so, as Elise walks down the aisle, scanning the men for a suitable candidate, she finds one and sits down opposite him. The man, Frank, is a maths teacher from Wisconsin (actually, being American, he is a 'math' teacher) and they begin talking. Despite sitting next to a no smoking sign, he appears to be happily puffing away on a cigarette but this isn't a real cigarette, an electronic device designed to help people quit smoking. As they are talking, the Italian police on the train are watching every move and take a covert photograph of Frank which is then sent to Inspector Acheson at Scotland Yard who uploaded onto a facial recognition database, hoping to find it bears a striking resemblance to Alexander Pearce, a man wanted for embezzling millions of dollars. When it transpires the photo is of a teacher from Wisconsin, everyone seems a little deflated.

Anyway, on with the journey which finishes in Venice where Elise checks in, telling the receptionist that Frank is her husband and they want the normal room. This isn't your everyday hotel room, but a huge suite overlooking Venice with a well-stocked wardrobe which suggests Alexander Pearce has been there are already and stocked it with expensive dresses, cuts and jewellery. Whether sparks genuinely begin to fly between the two or whether Elise has an ulterior motive, Frank doesn't seem to mind but, unlike Elise, seems completely ignorant of the police photographers camped out on a boat facing the hotel and, when they get a shot of the two kissing, every Interpol agent (and those not officially associated with the forces of law and order) develop a keen interest in Frank.

Following a night on the settee, during which he dreams of a romantic encounter and passionate embrace with Elise, Frank is woken by room service bringing him a breakfast he didn't order and then two heavy set Russians with guns sneak into the room and barricade him in the bathroom, begin shooting at the door and then, when Frank escapes through a window and begins clambering over the rooftops, they give chase. One thing leads to another and he ends up in police custody where the Chief Inspector doesn't quite believe his story and put him in the cells. Meanwhile, Elise has her own agenda to follow and an English gangster is on his way to Venice.

There are numerous problems with The Tourist, the least of which is just how predictable and fluffy the whole project is with no plot twist coming as a big surprise or character development catching you off guard. I had a very hard time believing the screenplay was written by von Donnersmarck, whose The Lives of Others was an extraordinarily accomplished piece of work, renowned Oscar-winning screenwriter Julian Fellowes and Christopher McQuarrie, the man who penned the intricacies of The Usual Suspects.

This is clearly a film that relies on star power and its setting to get by as there is so much attention given over to how Venice looks and making it appear as beautiful as possible with the same going for Angelina Jolie and (a slightly overweight) Johnny Depp. Jolie, as is increasingly the case, appears in each scene looking like she has been having her make-up and hair beautified for the last two hours. The only actor who really comes out with any credit is Paul Bettany who manages, against all the odds, to bring a certain gravitas to proceedings with even Timothy Dalton deciding to camp things up with a performance that isn't too far removed from his villainous supermarket manager role in Edgar Wright's Hot Fuzz! There is even an interesting cameo by Christian De Sica (son of the brilliant Italian director Vittorio De Sica) as the Italian detective who questions Frank.

In essence, this is a dispiriting and completely vacuous film that appears to be aiming for the same romantic spy thriller with suspenseful set pieces as North by Northwest, but failing drastically when compared to Hitchcock's most accessible and crowd pleasing film. The main quote on the front cover and poster is from the Daily Mail which describes it as "Hugely enjoyable... escapist fun" and that's perhaps where the problem lies as, rather than treating its subject material seriously, The Tourist becomes instantly forgettable popcorn nonsense and a film few will be talking about in five years.

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