People walked into theaters in late 2010 expecting Jason Bourne with a better haircut. They saw the posters of George Clooney running with a handgun, read the logline about an assassin in Italy, and assumed they were getting a high-octane summer blockbuster. Instead, they got a quiet, meditative, and almost painfully slow character study that felt more like a 1970s European art film than a modern thriller. The George Clooney movie The American remains one of the most misunderstood entries in the actor’s massive filmography. It’s a movie that actively resists being "fun." It’s cold. It’s lonely. And honestly, it’s probably one of the best things Clooney has ever done.
If you look at the CinemaScore from the opening weekend, it was a "D-." That’s usually reserved for horror movies that don't make sense or comedies that aren't funny. But for The American, that score was a badge of honor. It meant the marketing department had successfully tricked people into seeing a movie they weren't prepared for. Director Anton Corbijn—the guy who made Control and a million iconic Depeche Mode music videos—wasn't interested in car chases. He wanted to watch a man assemble a gun in a dimly lit room for ten minutes.
What Actually Happens in the George Clooney Movie The American?
Jack is a craftsman. He’s also a killer. After a hit goes wrong in Sweden—resulting in Jack killing his own lover to protect his anonymity—he flees to the Italian countryside. His handler, Pavel, tells him to hide out in a small town. Jack ends up in Castel del Monte. He doesn't want friends. He doesn't want a life. He just wants to finish one last job: building a custom, high-performance weapon for a mysterious woman named Mathilde.
Clooney plays Jack with a level of restraint that feels almost suffocating. You’ve seen Clooney be the charming guy in Ocean's Eleven. You've seen him be the stressed-out fixer in Michael Clayton. Here, he’s a ghost. He barely speaks. Most of his performance is centered on his hands and his eyes. He spends a huge chunk of the movie literally machining metal parts. It’s the "process" movie to end all process movies.
The tension doesn't come from explosions. It comes from the sound of a footstep on a cobblestone street. It comes from the realization that Jack is being watched, but he doesn't know by whom. The movie treats violence as something ugly and sudden, not something choreographed and cool. When a gun goes off, it’s loud, messy, and devastating.
The Source Material: A Very Private Gentleman
A lot of people don't realize this was based on a 1990 novel by Martin Booth called A Very Private Gentleman. The book is even more internal than the movie. It focuses heavily on the art of gunsmithing and the protagonist's obsession with butterflies (which makes it into the film via Jack’s tattoo and his interest in the local wildlife).
In the book, the "American" is much more of an enigma. Corbijn and screenwriter Rowan Joffé had to find a way to make that silence work on screen. They leaned into the "Western" tropes. Think about it: a lone gunman enters a small town, tries to find peace, but realizes his past won't let him go. It’s Shane. It’s The Searchers. But it’s set in Abruzzo, Italy, and the horses have been replaced by a dented Fiat.
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Why This Movie Split Audiences Down the Middle
If you go on Reddit or film forums today, you’ll see two very different takes on this film. Group A thinks it’s a boring slog where "nothing happens." Group B thinks it’s a masterpiece of tension and visual storytelling.
The divide exists because The American refuses to provide the dopamine hits we expect from Hollywood.
- There are no quips.
- There is no secondary comic relief character.
- The "romance" with Clara (played by Violante Placido) is tinged with the constant threat of Jack having to kill her.
The cinematography by Alberti provides a stark contrast to the warmth of the Italian setting. Everything looks beautiful, yet Jack looks like he’s in a prison. He works out in his room—push-ups, pull-ups—like he’s prepping for a fight that never quite arrives in the way he expects.
Corbijn’s background as a photographer is all over this. Every frame could be a still in a gallery. But for an audience that bought a ticket to see "George Clooney: Action Hero," this felt like a bait-and-switch.
The Realistic Tech of the Film
One thing that the George Clooney movie The American gets incredibly right is the technical side of his trade. Jack isn't using a "silencer" that makes a little pew sound. He’s building a suppressor from scratch using car parts and hardware store supplies. He’s testing the threading. He’s worrying about the weight of the bolt.
This level of realism is rare. Most movies treat guns like magic wands. Here, the weapon is a piece of machinery that requires precision and hours of tedious labor. Watching Jack work is meant to show us his mind: he is a man who can only find peace in the mechanical, because the human element—love, trust, friendship—is too dangerous for him to touch.
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The Supporting Cast and the Italian Backdrop
While Clooney is the sun this movie orbits around, the supporting cast does heavy lifting with very little dialogue.
- Paolo Bonacelli as Father Benedetto: He represents the soul Jack thinks he lost. Their conversations about sin and redemption are the closest the movie gets to explaining Jack’s internal state.
- Violante Placido as Clara: She provides the only warmth in the film. Her relationship with Jack is tragic because we know, and he knows, that he can never truly be with her.
- Thekla Reuten as Mathilde: She is Jack’s mirror image. Professional, cold, and potentially deadly.
The town of Castel del Monte itself is a character. Its winding, narrow streets and stone walls create a sense of claustrophobia despite the wide-open mountain vistas nearby. It’s a labyrinth. Jack is a rat in that labyrinth, trying to find an exit that doesn't lead to a grave.
Misconceptions About the Ending (Spoilers)
People often walk away from the movie feeling frustrated by the ending. Jack finishes the gun, gives it to Mathilde, and then realizes he’s being hunted by the very people he works for. In the final confrontation, he manages to kill his pursuers, but he’s mortally wounded.
The tragedy isn't that he dies; it's that he dies right at the moment he decides he wants to live. He’s driving toward Clara, seeing the butterfly—the symbol of his transformation and "rebirth"—and then he collapses.
Some critics argued it was too predictable. But predictability isn't always a flaw. In a tragedy, you should see the end coming from miles away. The inevitability is what makes it hurt. Jack was never getting out. You can't kill your way to a peaceful life in the mountains. The movie is a firm rejection of the "one last job" trope where the hero actually gets to retire on a beach.
The "Slow Cinema" Movement
The American fits into a specific niche of "slow cinema" that occasionally breaks into the mainstream. Think of movies like Drive (which came out a year later) or Le Samouraï (the 1967 Jean-Pierre Melville classic). These films prioritize mood over plot.
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If you try to watch this while scrolling on your phone, you will hate it. It requires you to sit with the silence. You have to notice the way Jack looks at a shadow or the way he pauses before entering his apartment. It’s an exercise in empathy for a man who has tried to hollow himself out.
Is It Worth a Re-Watch in 2026?
Actually, yeah. In an era of "content" that is designed to be loud and distracting, The American feels like a relief. It’s a confident film. It doesn't care if you're bored. It knows what it is.
Clooney’s performance has aged incredibly well. We’re so used to seeing him as the elder statesman of Hollywood or the face of a tequila brand. Seeing him play a character who is fundamentally broken and terrified—despite his calm exterior—is a reminder of why he’s a movie star in the first place. He has the "weight" to carry a film where he barely talks.
Actionable Insights for the Viewer
If you’re going to revisit the George Clooney movie The American, here is how to actually enjoy it:
- Adjust your expectations: Forget the "thriller" label. Treat it as a Western or a tragedy.
- Watch for the sound design: The movie uses silence as a weapon. Use a good pair of headphones or a decent sound system. The clinking of the metal parts and the ambient sounds of the Italian village are vital.
- Research Anton Corbijn: Look at his photography. Once you understand his visual style, the pacing of the movie makes way more sense.
- Pair it with "Le Samouraï": If you want a double feature, watch the 1967 Alain Delon film first. You’ll see exactly where The American got its DNA.
The movie isn't a failure because people didn't like it in 2010. It was just a movie out of time. It belonged in a smoky cinema in Paris in 1972. Today, it stands as a unique, quiet moment in George Clooney's career that rewards the patient viewer more than almost any of his other projects.
To get the most out of your next viewing, pay attention to the butterfly motif. It appears in his tattoo, in his books, and in the final scene. It’s not just a pretty image; it’s the key to Jack’s entire arc—the desire to change from a crawling thing into something that can finally fly away, even if the flight is short.