OK, who wants to keep their Middle East biases completely intact and still come out smiling? Fess up, I know you’re there. Who’s unafraid of calling Lebanon a “shithole,” yet still needs the reassurance that movies are happy escape times where all the characters you like go have drinks together afterwards? Throw in an overcomplicated plot, and there you have Beirut, a film which will alleviate none of your worst suspicions of the Middle East, yet leaves you “satisfied” all the same. Sort of.
While hosting a dinner party from his mini palace in –I’m guessing- Beirut Heights, diplomat Mason Skiles (Jon Hamm) happily tells the metaphor of the city – It’s one big apartment building with no manager and tenants that hate one another … and then the PLO wants in. His party is all smiles until the CIA gate crashes. It would seem Mason’s adopted son Karim (Idir Chender in the 1982 version, whould you believe imdb doesn’t list the boy playing 1972 Karim? What’s up with that?) has a brother. This being the summer of 1972, sources place Karim’s brother at Munich during the Olympics … say, could l’il Karim come talk to us for a bit – like, several months, perhaps? And wouldn’t you know it? Everybody wants in on this little shindig, including Karim’s terrorist brother, who comes to the “rescue” in the nick of time. Dudes, none of you have invites; uzis or no, this is really rude. That doesn’t stop terror from going down. A few deaths later, including that of Mason’s wife, and the man has gone from party host/family man to pathetic single alcoholic in about forty-five seconds.
Ten years later, Mason is laying foundation in the field of arbitration. This is a must job for masochists who need to be surrounded by people who hate each other. Guess what, Mason? Remember all the fun you had in Beirut what with your wife dying and adopted son stolen and all? And remember that CIA guy who brokered the unpleasantness that night? Well, he’s been stolen by the People’s Front of Judea or whatever, and they want you to negotiate getting him back. So, you in? And before you know it, Dean Norris shows up wearing a ridiculous wig and Rosamund Pike shows up wearing a ridiculous American accent. They’re both CIA, and this choice makes more sense if we assume Mason is obigated, so let’s pretend that’s the case.
I remember studying Lebanon in middle school. The unfortunate impression I got of the very segmented country was one where car bombs were more commonplace than sunsets. You could set clocks to them … “There goes the 5:15 …” Well, you could set time bombs to them, at least. This film did nothing to dispel that notion. Late in Beirut, a bomb is detonated as a mere distraction. Sure, why employ a non-lethal method of grabbing attention when there’s always the tried and true?
The CIA keeps track of Mason in order to keep him alive, among other reasons. Luckily, Mason doesn’t really value his life anymore, so his shaking a tail more often than Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop seems only really, really stupid. Well, gee, he’s a white American in a Middle East terrorist film, what could go wrong?
Jon Hamm has joined the Idris Elba in the “You need a signature movie” club. Yup, we know you can act. Yup, we like you on film. Ask Tab Hunter how that worked out for him. You don’t want the Hedy Lamarr career in which
decades after your death, somebody has to make a documentary explaining why your name comes up every so often. You need either an Oscar-caliber performance or a movie everybody saw and you were the reason they saw it. Beirut is not that film on either count.
Beirut is a tad convoluted and surprisingly upbeat for a terrorist kidnap film. It’s not like there’s a party going on and our hero is a premature widower alcoholic, yet you don’t expect to get any smiles out of a film like this. So, yay? This is yet another in a long collection of films insisting that visiting the Middle East is a bad idea at all times. OTOH, we (Americans) are a pretty good reason why that’s the truth when it is the truth and the movie acknowledges it so I’m not going to discount Beirut on that score. I will tell you, however, the cinematography in this film is a pile of crap. Next time, just go with Dead Sea scrolling the camera across the horizon. The poor lighting and hand-held action did nothing to help this picture.
From Cairo to eastern Tehran
There’s murder from dusk until dawn
Is it simply perception?
Do we need intervention?
Somebody call Leb-Anon
Rated R, 109 Minutes
Director: Brad Anderson
Writer: Tony Gilroy
Genre: Feel-good terrorism
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: People who need biases confirmed without spoiling the movie
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: The PLO
