The Informant!

'The Informant!' tells the incredible by-way-of ridiculous true story of an Archer Daniels Midland executive who, in 1992, became an all-too-willing informant for the F.B.I. about suspicious activity within it - the country's largest producer of food and grain additives. Over the course of the next several years, the agents in charge would unravel a seemingly endless web of illegal activities and cover ups. Kickbacks and extortion claims. Moles and rats. But the most intriguing thing our agents uncover is the source of all this never-ending information: Mark Whitacre.

'The Informant!' earns the extra exclamation point at the end from it's characterization of Whitacre, a man whose vast intelligence and sense of self-importance far exceeded his grip on reality. We hear all this via voice-over. I hesitate to use "voice-over narration" as his thoughts rarely have anything to do with the considerable events displayed on the screen. No matter how in-over-his head he gets, he's just too preoccupied by random facts about the ways of just about everything in the world. This doesn't catch up to his reality until the film's heartbreaking resolution; up until which, they provide some of the movie's best laughs. Whitacre is played by Matt Damon, who again utilizes his gift for playing characters whose special gift is lying. Very much like his work in 'The Talented Mr. Ripley' and 'The Departed', he here slides gracefully into the role of a bullshit artist who covers up his bullshit with nervous energy and grinning enthusiasm. He's a very long way from Jason Bourne here; just as much a chameleon as always.

Director Steven Soderbergh, hot of the heels of his four hour biopic of Che Guevera, also continues to excel in disappearing behind every new project he takes on. He treats 'The Informant!' as part paranoia-thriller farce, part Coen brothers satire of Americans, and part Peter Sellers spy spoof. Every new city we're taken to is introduced in giant, purple letters and every secretive act is balanced by the 'awe-shucks' nature of rural Illinoisans. The only thing immediately identifiable to Soderbergh is a strong sense of light. Sunshine burns through the windows and interior shots seem to be use little to no non-diagetic lighting. Technically, Soderbergh's greatest strength though is his feel for life in the midwest. The bad clothes, the soft people, the haircuts, the accents - not bad for a guy from Louisiana. Soderbergh even resists the urge to drool over what scenery there might be, instead favoring the simple front yards and monotonous work places. His biggest failure though is Marvin Hamlisch's over-the-top score. There's enough going on here to know that this is a comedy; the elevator muzak, Fellini-esque-nightmare score just feels as if they're forcing it on us.

But all this pales in comparison to the enigma that is Mark Whitacre. Soderbergh greatest success is setting up a conspiracy plot to hook us in, only to have us enthralled in the mind of a truly unique character. Everybody loves a great story, but EVERYBODY loves a great protagonist. I can think of a few actors who could've pulled this off. But I can't think of any who could've pulled it off this well. Look out for a cameo from Biff.