Hoffman’s Power on Full Display in

It’s been a rough year where deaths in the world of film are
concerned. While we acknowledge their passing and recognize the inherent
misfortune that accompanies these events, we only begin to recognize the
importance of these losses, from an artistic point of view, when we see them at
work. Such is the case with A Most Wanted
Man, an adaptation of the John le Carre novel featuring Philip Seymour
Hoffman in his final starring role, a nicely executed bit of international
espionage that’s elevated by the actor’s fine performance as he brings
something special and humane to a part that could have been botched by making
obvious dramatic choices, something he was rarely guilty of doing.

 Fueled by urgency and paranoia, the film’s setting is
Hamburg, Germany where Gunther Bachmann (Hoffman) runs a small unit within the
government’s espionage division.  They’re
charged mostly with surveillance where suspected terrorists are concerned and
Bachmann’s methods often run counter to those of other directors in the
intelligence community.  He runs into
some internal resistance regarding the way he’s handling his latest target, one
Issa Karpov (Grigoriy Dobrygin), a half-Chechen, half-Russian Muslim who’s
snuck into the country, but not unnoticed. Instead of apprehending him
immediately, Bachmann, as he often does, instructs the members of his team to
watch and wait, allow the suspect to act so he may lead them to bigger fish in
the terrorist world.  This policy rankles
his colleagues but it seems to pay off in a big way once Karpov shows his hand.
Through Annabel Richter (Rachel McAdams), an idealistic but naïve lawyer, he
informs Tommy Brue (Willem Dafoe), the head of a bank with a questionable past,
that he’s come to claim what remains in his dead father’s accounts, a sum
that’s north of ten million Euros.

The cat-and-mouse game kicks into high gear once that card
is played, with Bachmann and his crew watching Karpov’s every step, wondering
if he’ll use his newfound wealth to fund terrorist operations, as it is
revealed he has reason to do so, donate the money to altruistic organizations
or simply take it and run.  As with most
le Carre stories, the twists, turns, red herrings and half-truths begin to pile
up but never in a way that causes confusion or defies logic.  We’re made aware of all the players in the
game, their motives and realize that no one can be taken at face value.  Kudos to director (Anton Corbijn) for
creating the proper tempo, stringing us along with one piece after another but
never letting the line slacken to allow tedium or repetition to set in. Though
the film runs two hours, it never seems like it.

One of the most refreshing aspects of this spy thriller is
that this is as far away from James Bond as you can imagine.  Many of the operatives are in the shadows and
Bachmann’s team consists of seemingly everyday people, none of whom will be
mistaken for men of action, particularly their leader.  Hoffman is at his most vulnerable here,
slovenly, overweight, chain-smoking, never without a drink nearby, he gives us
a man who refuses to let this job get the better of him, though it’s killing
him as a result.  Stress and fatigue are
writ large on him from top to bottom and he mines the inherent tragedy of this
man’s situation to great effect.  As you
would expect, Dafoe, McAdams and Robin Wright Penn as a US operative all do
fine work and keep up with the film’s star. 
However, special mention should be made of Nina Hoss who plays Irna, Bachmann’s
Girl Friday, a colleague who perhaps harbors romantic feelings for her
co-worker yet must stand back and watch helplessly as their work destroys the
man she loves.  At one point, they must
pretend to embrace and kiss.  Notice how
Hoss grips Hoffman and releases him – with this one action, she tells you all
you need to know about her character.

 Man is a well-done spy thriller – it’s tautly
executed, contains very good performances and resonates with international
concerns of the day.  However, it will be
remembered as Hoffman’s last great screen triumph, a performance in many ways
reflective of how he approached his profession – with complete and total
commitment, blind to the harm it was doing to him all the way to the end. 

This article appears in Aug 14-20, 2014.