Having missed the opening credits, I watched this story of good guy Mark Whitacre spilling the beans about Archer Daniel Midland's misdeeds to the FBI and thought, "Whoever's doing the lead looks a little like a pudgier Matt Damon." Of course it WAS Matt Damon who, I assume, put on some extra poundage to fit the role of the self-satisfied, optimistic, affable, bourgeois Midwesterner -- just as he starved himself for the role of the junkie in "Courage Under Fire." Putting on and taking off weight is an easy trick to pull for movie roles -- especially the putting on part. You win awards for such displays of commitment to your craft that involve eating a lot of pasta quattro fromaggio. My kind of role, but they kept giving me these Cary Grant parts.
I was also reminded of another incident. Doing research in a psychiatric clinic, the psychiatrist asked me to watch an interview through the one-way mirror, saying, "This guy's a psychopath." The patient was smooth throughout and when Howard asked him about his having forged three or four licenses to drive trucks, the guy was thoroughly convincing in his indignation: "They can't take away a man's way of making a living." (Damn RIGHT, they can't!) Damon plays the same manipulative character, an expert at self justification. He embezzles more than eleven millions dollars and it's everybody else's fault.
There's a narration of Matt Damon's thoughts as he contacts the FBI and tells them about the world of agribusiness and that Archer Daniel Midland is fixing the price of a cornstarch sequela or isomorph or something, the stuff that sweetens up your corn flakes and everything else..
The narration mostly reenforces what we see on the screen. He worries about the correct pronunciation of "Porsche." He may have a doctorate in biochemistry from a semi-fancy university but Whitacre is a well-meaning moron.
The price fixing is not why Damon contacted the FBI in the first place, though. He called in the bureau because he thought there might be someone sabotaging the chemical process with a virus, and he just mentions the price fixing in passing -- but it's at that datum that Scott Bakula's, the agent's, ears perk up, Darwinian points quivering.
The FBI warily asks Damon how far he will go to help them. What do they mean? Well . . . will he wear a wire and set up tiny cameras and so on? YOU BETCHA. They ask him why he's willing to do all this. After all, this will put his $350K job in jeopardy and alienate most of his friends if the case goes public. Damon comes on with this incredible comic-book routine about, hey, I just want to do the right thing because I think what these guys are doing is illegal and I want it stopped. My wife and two adopted kids love me. My parents were killed in a car crash and I was adopted by a rich family and, hey, that was a lucky break but this is the greatest country in the world! The two agents stare at him in disbelief.
Years pass, the investigation proceeds pari passu, and slowly, bit by bit, it's revealed that the Damon character isn't quite all there. He's been blabbing about his role as FBI agent all over the place; he's been forging documents to his advantage; he's been taking kickbacks in the millions of dollars. As his wife, Ginger, says, they have eleven expensive new cars and three have never even been used.
The story gets more twisted and, partly because of the editing, a little hard to follow at times, but I didn't mind that. We get the general picture okay. Mark Whitacre is a very bright guy -- but he CANNOT STOP LYING. He makes up lies that are easily exposed! That wealthy couple who adopted him as a child, for instance? A simple phone call to Whitacre's family reveals that they're his biological parents and they're not wealthy. Feeling betrayed when the FBI turn him and designate him a target, he fabricates an incident in which one of the agents hits him with a briefcase and he brings suit against the FBI.
If it sounds crazy, that's largely because it is. But the craziness is so extreme that it couldn't have been easily made up. (If it had been, it wouldn't fascinate the way it does.) One easily notes the influence of two earlier films: "Fargo" and "Shattered Glass," but that doesn't stop this movie from being the fine piece of work that it is.
Matt Damon and Brad Pitt are two actors of their generation that have shown genuine talent as well as appeal to gushing teen-aged naifs. And Scott Bakula is a marvel as the FBI agent handling the case -- his features are a mask of bemused skepticism. Melanie Lynskey has the part of Whitacre's wife Ginger and she fits the part like one of her husband's enzymes fits its substrate. She always appears perfectly made up, lipsticked, rouged, exquisitely accessorized, not a strand of her dark hair out of its ranks. This is the way well-to-do wives of high-echelon corporate people look and speak in Decatur, Illinois.
There's something else. This movie hasn't got a gun shot in it. There isn't a single automobile chase, no exploding fireball, no nudity, no simulated coitus, and no more foul words than a realistic presentation of the story calls for. It's a movie for adults. OMG! GR8. They are so few, so far between. A rare bird indeed, and I think I'll give it an extra star just for not having been dumbed down.
I was also reminded of another incident. Doing research in a psychiatric clinic, the psychiatrist asked me to watch an interview through the one-way mirror, saying, "This guy's a psychopath." The patient was smooth throughout and when Howard asked him about his having forged three or four licenses to drive trucks, the guy was thoroughly convincing in his indignation: "They can't take away a man's way of making a living." (Damn RIGHT, they can't!) Damon plays the same manipulative character, an expert at self justification. He embezzles more than eleven millions dollars and it's everybody else's fault.
There's a narration of Matt Damon's thoughts as he contacts the FBI and tells them about the world of agribusiness and that Archer Daniel Midland is fixing the price of a cornstarch sequela or isomorph or something, the stuff that sweetens up your corn flakes and everything else..
The narration mostly reenforces what we see on the screen. He worries about the correct pronunciation of "Porsche." He may have a doctorate in biochemistry from a semi-fancy university but Whitacre is a well-meaning moron.
The price fixing is not why Damon contacted the FBI in the first place, though. He called in the bureau because he thought there might be someone sabotaging the chemical process with a virus, and he just mentions the price fixing in passing -- but it's at that datum that Scott Bakula's, the agent's, ears perk up, Darwinian points quivering.
The FBI warily asks Damon how far he will go to help them. What do they mean? Well . . . will he wear a wire and set up tiny cameras and so on? YOU BETCHA. They ask him why he's willing to do all this. After all, this will put his $350K job in jeopardy and alienate most of his friends if the case goes public. Damon comes on with this incredible comic-book routine about, hey, I just want to do the right thing because I think what these guys are doing is illegal and I want it stopped. My wife and two adopted kids love me. My parents were killed in a car crash and I was adopted by a rich family and, hey, that was a lucky break but this is the greatest country in the world! The two agents stare at him in disbelief.
Years pass, the investigation proceeds pari passu, and slowly, bit by bit, it's revealed that the Damon character isn't quite all there. He's been blabbing about his role as FBI agent all over the place; he's been forging documents to his advantage; he's been taking kickbacks in the millions of dollars. As his wife, Ginger, says, they have eleven expensive new cars and three have never even been used.
The story gets more twisted and, partly because of the editing, a little hard to follow at times, but I didn't mind that. We get the general picture okay. Mark Whitacre is a very bright guy -- but he CANNOT STOP LYING. He makes up lies that are easily exposed! That wealthy couple who adopted him as a child, for instance? A simple phone call to Whitacre's family reveals that they're his biological parents and they're not wealthy. Feeling betrayed when the FBI turn him and designate him a target, he fabricates an incident in which one of the agents hits him with a briefcase and he brings suit against the FBI.
If it sounds crazy, that's largely because it is. But the craziness is so extreme that it couldn't have been easily made up. (If it had been, it wouldn't fascinate the way it does.) One easily notes the influence of two earlier films: "Fargo" and "Shattered Glass," but that doesn't stop this movie from being the fine piece of work that it is.
Matt Damon and Brad Pitt are two actors of their generation that have shown genuine talent as well as appeal to gushing teen-aged naifs. And Scott Bakula is a marvel as the FBI agent handling the case -- his features are a mask of bemused skepticism. Melanie Lynskey has the part of Whitacre's wife Ginger and she fits the part like one of her husband's enzymes fits its substrate. She always appears perfectly made up, lipsticked, rouged, exquisitely accessorized, not a strand of her dark hair out of its ranks. This is the way well-to-do wives of high-echelon corporate people look and speak in Decatur, Illinois.
There's something else. This movie hasn't got a gun shot in it. There isn't a single automobile chase, no exploding fireball, no nudity, no simulated coitus, and no more foul words than a realistic presentation of the story calls for. It's a movie for adults. OMG! GR8. They are so few, so far between. A rare bird indeed, and I think I'll give it an extra star just for not having been dumbed down.