Body of Lies (15)
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Ridley Scott's latest is a very different kind of war movie. Where Waltz With Bashir is honourably self-questioning, Body of Lies is dimly self-important.
This is Scott's reading of the "war on terror", as conducted by two rivalrous CIA spooks. An Islamist bomb rocks inner-city Manchester, and agent Roger Ferris (Leonardo DiCaprio) is dispatched to Jordan to smoke out the al-Qa'ida leader who's behind the campaign. While he's risking life and limb in the field, his complacent boss Ed Hoffman (Russell Crowe) sends directives from home, laying down a smokescreen of disinformation and blithely condoning the sacrifice of contacts and informers.
Its first hour is packed with dull CIA procedure: Crowe, paunchy and pawky, phone-piece at his ear, looks more like the manager of a call-centre than a master of the dark arts. The film wants to take a lofty view of his get-the-job-done callousness, but instead makes him look like the only realist in town.
DiCaprio, bearded and gimlet-eyed, plays an arrogant little turd who at first makes himself so difficult to like that you wonder if the screenwriter William Monahan (The Departed) is planning some savage comeuppance. But the screenplay, driving a wedge between the two protagonists, becomes a battleground between Hoffman's amoral pragmatism and Ferris's burgeoning conscience. The former thinks that lying to everyone is the safest method; the latter realises that people, innocent people, will die because of those lies – one such being the Iranian nurse (Golshifteh Farahani) he falls for.
The film has a situation, but no plot. Scott is far more interested in visual possibilities than dramatic complexities – shots of light through slatted blinds make their regular appearance, and there's a clever one of a dust storm whipped up by four SUVs to bamboozle the CIA's spy satellite. Mark Strong lends a silken menace to the part of a Jordanian intelligence chief, and offers more charisma than DiCaprio and Crowe combined. But it's something of a penance to sit through, a token handwringing over American dirty tricks that's just another opportunity for Scott and co to blow stuff up.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments