This sounds crazy, even in my disturbed head, but I kept thinking about The Life of David Gale while I was watching The Interpreter.  I know – everybody else promptly forgot Gale ever existed within minutes of seeing it.  But bear with me here: Both pictures were rare examples of (supposedly) intelligent adult dramas released in the post-Oscar/pre-summer season usually full of nothing but junk; both were made by directors we know, despite them not having made anything vaguely recommendable for over a decade; both were brimming with performances from perennial Oscar nominees.

Unfortunately, both were classy disappointments, too.  The Interpreter, directed by Sydney Pollack (Random Hearts) and penned by a laundry list of writers too lengthy to name, is about an icy United Nations interpreter named Silvia Broome (Nicole Kidman, Birth) who overhears what might be a plot to assassinate a controversial African president.  Coincidentally, this particular dignitary is due to deliver a UN speech in a few days.  Also of notable happenstance, Sylvia was raised in the country of said leader, and is purposefully vague about her past when interrogated by Tobin Keller, a Secret Service agent (Hollywood funnyman Sean Penn) assigned to the case.

Now, in the real world, anybody who isn’t straightforward about answering questions even remotely involving national security would be cuffed, hooded, beaten and shipped off to Guantanamo Bay for more of the same.  But that doesn’t happen to Silvia.  Tobin is frustrated by her evasiveness, but he has no problem letting Silvia continue to roam the streets of Manhattan and attend her UN gig on a daily basis.  As The Interpreter slowly winds its way to the Big Finale, we’re never sure if Silvia is involved, or the extent of her involvement if she is.  Frankly, after two-plus hours, I kind of stopped caring.

There were little things that bugged me about The Interpreter, like its fully unnecessary prologue, and its relegation of Catherine Keener to that of a comedic sidekick (please save that kind of role for the likes of Steve Zahn, or Anthony Anderson), but the big thing was so big, it became entirely distracting.  I’m talking about scenes in which Kidman and Penn appear together, which for some reason, are pieced together as if The Interpreter’s editor was the bastard lovechild of Michael Bay and that squirrel/rat thing from Ice Age.  With few exceptions, one might get the impression that the two actors were never on the set at the same time.  I thought the first instance of this may have suffered from hastily-produced re-shoots once principal photography was completed, but this continued throughout the entire picture, to the point where it almost became comical.  My theory: Penn couldn’t stand to share screen time with Kidman because she once made a joke about telemarketers.

The Interpreter is the first film given permission to film within the hallowed halls of the United Nations, but that merely made me think about Ali G asking if Disneyland is a part of the UN, or expressing his outrage that (Michael) Jordan got as many votes as an entire country.  Additionally, astute viewers should be able to pick out a very brief appearance by Keifer Sutherland’s favorite word.

2:09 –

for violence, some sexual content and brief strong language