The bulk of the planning for the September 11th attacks did not take place in an Afghan manse or a Saudi backroom — it happened in an apartment in Hamburg, Germany. Contrary to what the public may think, terrorism is not Middle Eastern, not even Islamic terrorism; like everything else in the 21st century, it is globalized. The international movements of dissidents, fundamentalists, and criminals, as well as the social, political, and economic forces that influence them, all intersect at major ports like Hamburg. At the beginning of A Most Wanted Man, a title card informs the audience of how the city remains a hotbed of anti-terrorism attention more than a decade after 9/11.
Stumbling onto this stage is Issa Karpov (Grigoriy Dobrygin), a Chechen-Russian and recent convert to Islam who’s hoping to escape the persecution and torture he endured in both of his home countries. He immediately draws the attention of multiple intelligence agencies, including a black ops group headed by Günter Bachmann (Philip Seymour Hoffman). Günter is particularly drawn to how Issa stands to inherit millions in Mafia money, and thus believes him to be the perfect bait with which to catch prominent philanthropist Faisal Abdullah (Homayoun Ershadi), whom he suspects of financing terrorism. But Günter, a cautious, patient, big-picture-thinker, is at constant odds with his superiors and his American colleagues, who want to bring Issa in as soon as possible. Caught in the middle of this clandestine push-pull are Issa’s lawyer, Annabel Richter (Rachel McAdams), who wants to help him inherit his money and legally settle in Germany, and Tommy Brue (Willem Dafoe), the head of the bank that holds the inheritance.
A Most Wanted Man is the latest adaptation of a book by John le Carré, who remains one of the most sociopolitically perspicacious writers of fiction 50 years into his career. Like much of his work, the story blends elements of fact (drawing on the case of Murat Kurnaz), fiction, and his personal experience in the espionage business (le Carré was a SIS agent and British consul in Hamburg at one point) in the service of a devastatingly on-point message about the failings of the institutions that are supposed to safeguard us.
In one late scene of the film, Günter is asked to explain his plan of action, and that very justification is his defense. The irony is heavy, considering that he and his team indulge in illegal detention, surveillance, and coercion to achieve their goals. In the name of security, they’ve been granted permission to get their hands dirty in ways the rest of the government can’t. Yet in Hoffman’s hands (here is a good space for another heavy pang at what we’ve missed out on in losing him this year), Günter comes across as genuinely motivated toward the greater good. This isn’t a usual Hoffman performance of semi-repressed frustration — like le Carré’s George Smiley, Günter is unfailingly professional and level-headed. What lets him keep the moral high ground over, say, American agent Martha Sullivan (a wonderfully icy Robin Wright), is that he is unconcerned with what arrest will look best on paper or the evening news, and knows what will produce real results.
There are no gunfights or torture scenes in this film. The most action-y it gets is one restrained chase sequence. This is intelligence as enacted in passive-aggressive negotiations, surveillance, research, and dealmaking. But it wrings fantastic tension out of uncertainty, and exploits the natural paranoia of its characters and the audience. Is Issa innocent or not? At the beginning of the film, he emerges from a canal looking like a feral man, draped in filthy clothes and a bedraggled beard. And his eyes carry more pain than seems bearable for a human being. Dobrygin is a standout, a marvelous enigma who says much more with his face than he does in dialogue.
It’s a shame that the rest of the cast can’t match him and Hoffman. McAdams and Dafoe, in two key roles, are saddled with not-quite-bad but still obviously affected German accents. But then, it may not be possible to ever fully accept stories in contemporary foreign locales where everyone is speaking English all the time.
A Most Wanted Man is precise and moody, and a terrific look at how misplaced priorities and ingrained racism and xenophobia thwart intelligence machines that can operate with such frightening efficiency. It builds to an ending that isn’t a shock but is still a bitter kick in the shins, a chilling reminder of how the War on Terror grinds bystanders under its wheels.
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