See what I mean?

The Good German is no Casablanca, and if you think it’s unfair of me to make that comparison, check out its poster. They started it. Turns out that Steven Soderbergh set out to make a movie using the style and methods of 1940s Hollywood -- stark black and white, noir-ish shadows, huge music, and oh the melodrama. The movie’s story is reminiscent of Casablanca but with more of a film noir cynicism and the raw language and sexuality of today’s movies. All of which is fine in theory, but doesn’t really hold together in practice.

The movie is set in post-World War II Berlin. George Clooney plays Jake Geismer, a reporter who had lived in Berlin before the war but fled when the fighting started. Back in town to cover the peace conference, he’s assigned a driver named Tully (Tobey Maguire), a scheming opportunist with black market connections and a mean streak. Tully’s unfortunate girlfriend is Lena Brandt (Cate Blanchett) who coincidentally – or is it? – was also Jake’s lover once upon a time. Lena had a tough time of it during the war and now she’s turning tricks and trying to get out of Germany, though as she points out in her best Marlene Dietrich, “You never really get out of Berlin.” Lena’s husband is supposedly dead but nobody seems to believe this because the various governments who are in the process of divvying up Germany all seem to be looking for him. Thus begins the intrigue.

"I am almost too sad even to ride my bicycle."

The trouble with The Good German is that it feels more like a technical exercise than a movie. I’m sure Soderbergh had fun pretending he was Michael Curtiz, and the results look extremely authentic. What he seems to have forgotten is that Casablanca isn’t a great movie because of the film stocks or camera lenses Curtiz used, it’s great because its story had heart and its characters had recognizable emotions. I don’t have a problem with trading in the idealism that had Rick Blaine giving up the woman he loved to fight the good fight for this movie’s more cynical ending. What troubles me is that I never had any real sense of who most of the characters were or what they wanted. In Casablanca you could tell, through looks, action and dialogue, that Rick loved Ilsa. I never got that in The Good German; maybe Jake loved Lena but she seemed more like an item on his to-do list. Jake needs more fire than Clooney gives him.

Blanchett fares better. Lena claims to be dead inside and you can believe it; she’s got post-traumatic stress and survivor’s guilt written all over her. But Soderbergh has her play up the melodrama too much. Gestures that may have worked just fine for Ingrid Bergman sixty years ago are laughable today. As for Maguire, he’s miscast as the bad guy. He gamely punches Blanchett in the stomach, but I’m sorry, without his Spidey suit he just doesn’t seem that tough.

I wonder how much Persil paid for that product placement.

The mystery is serviceable, if stretched a little thin. I liked the themes of moral compromise and the unforgivable things individuals and countries might do to survive. It would have been nice if screenwriter Paul Attanasio had found ways to advance the plot other than beating up the lead. I lost count of how many times Clooney was pummeled. And the dialogue was sadly uninspired. “This whole goddamn country and she ends up fucking my fucking driver” is a poor substitute for “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

Soderbergh lets opportunities for emotional impact fall by the wayside. The moment when Jake sees Lena for the first time, which should have packed a punch, falls flat, as does the anticlimactic climax. The Good German, while an admirable experiment, was a disappointment. I’m sure there was a good movie to be had here. Soderbergh just didn’t find it.

Gorilla Pants rating: 2 out of 4 bananas