Interpreter fails to translate depth

Catching a detailed glimpse inside of the United Nations building in New York City is by far the most captivating element of the newest Sydney Pollack film The Interpreter. The film was advertised as a taut thriller, but gave away half of the plot in its trailer. Needless to say, those who were attracted by the thrown together images of The Interpreter will not discover much more in the film’s 128-minute run.

The film begins in Matobo, Africa. A genocide has taken place in this desert—hundreds of bodies are discovered on a dirt road by an unnamed soldier and a white traveler. The film abruptly cuts to downtown Manhattan, where Silvia Boothe (Nicole Kidman) translates for a foreign dignitary in the U.N. Silvia, an American-born South African, is an interpreter of Ku, a fictional South African dialect, which comes in handy late one night when Sylvia overhears a hushed whisper: assassination attempt being planned for the Matoban president

Edmond Zuwanie was once a great leader, but is now accused of crimes against humanity. The Secret Service is brought in, including Tobin Keller (Sean Penn), who begins an investigation of Silvia, and as it predictably turns out, Silvia has her own secrets that make Keller wonder if he can trust this possible femme fatale. The remainder of the film is a series of cat and mouse chases, and the discovery of somewhat ambiguous links between Silvia and the assassination attempt, all leading up to a lengthy, tense climax inside the U.N.

Ultimately, however, The Interpreter does not live up to its potential. Directed by Pollack (Out of Africa, Tootsie, The Firm), the film sometimes escapes the stupidity of a Michael Bay film. Penn is charismatic and brooding, and Kidman produces a more understated performance than she has done in recent years. Silvia and Keller are sufficiently interesting characters, but neither offer enough depth for Kidman or Penn to showcase their talents. The film’s dialogue is beneath everyone involved, and Pollack often falls prey to campy montages and lazy editing.

There are inklings of romance between Silvia and Keller, but it never serves a purpose outside Keller becoming emotionally involved in his case. Where The Interpreter falls short is in its thinly veiled desperation to “mean something.” The film spouts African folklore in an attempt to flesh out Sylvia’s character, as well as linking the two protagonists by their history of personal loss. Yet the film doesn’t have the depth to back up the themes it tries to enforce. In addition, focusing on the U.N. the film exonerates any major national responsibility, all the while focusing on New York City as a site of terrorism and never mentioning any larger contemporary issues that provide an ignored backdrop for the film.

The film’s brief cerebral moments that concentrate on language are intriguing. “The human voice is different from other sounds,” a character reads at one point. The film tries to convey something meaningful about loss and vengeance, but it gets lost in overly deliberate dialogue. The Interpreter works well enough as a smart film, but offers packaged, easy dialogue instead of letting reality do its job by placing the story within a context outside of Hollywood.

—Julie Hawes, Guest Writer