Having absorbed the revolting news of Theo van Gogh's murder by Islamist militants in 2004, readers unfamiliar with the Dutch film-maker's work might expect Interview, Steve Buscemi's remake of a late van Gogh piece, to communicate in righteous, furious bellows, writes Donald Clarke.
TWO AT PLAY ***
Directed by Steve Buscemi. Starring Steve Buscemi, Sienna Miller, Tara Elders, Molly Griffith, Robert Hines, Jackson Loo.TBC cert, limited release, 84 min
Van Gogh, though reportedly charming in person, was renowned for his talent - and his enthusiasm - for provoking any special interest group or religious body capable of taking offence.
Long before Submission, his study of violence against women in Islamic societies, pushed the jihadists' panic buttons, he had, through his incendiary newspaper column, managed to attract the ire of both Jewish groups and the new Dutch right. This could be provocative stuff.
Well, though nicely made and very decently acted, Interview suffers from the obviousness of its targets. Even I will allow that journalists - and, more particularly, writers who interview celebrities - do not often deserve the respect that routinely comes the way of firemen, nurses and lifeguards.
Similarly, the stars of primetime television and mainstream movies, though the subject of public adoration, are not infrequently portrayed as trivial dunderheads whose plastic bodies can barely contain the swelling egos within. You may as well set out to satirise arsonists and car thieves.
Though the odd waiter and passer-by does get to speak, Interview is essentially a theatrical two-hander between Buscemi as the journalist and Sienna Miller as the slumming movie star (quiet at the back). Pierre has earned his living as a serious political writer, but, following some mysterious professional transgression, is now reduced to writing celebrity fluff for the entertainment pages. Katya is the star of horror sequels and something that looks a little like Sex and the City.
Whereas the staff at the restaurant where they meet fall over themselves to accommodate her unreasonable demands, Pierre conspicuously fails to remember any of her films or to be impressed by her ostentatious glamour.
At first the actor seems amused by the hack's unconventionality, but they eventually fall out and elect to go their separate ways. Outside the restaurant, however, she inadvertently causes an accident - her face quite literally stops traffic - that leaves Pierre with a bleeding head. This being the sort of thing where this sort of thing happens, she invites him up to her apartment and they begin a lengthy verbal sparring match that doesn't quite lead to romance.
It hardly needs to be said that Buscemi has just the right degree of crumpled vulnerability to successfully flesh out a man burdened by professional disappointment. Miller is, however, surprisingly impressive as a successful woman constantly struggling to suppress looming vulnerability and doubt.
She is still hampered by that bewilderingly obscure screen presence - when her face appeared on a television set I, for the hundredth time, failed to recognise this now quite substantial star - but she has that essential ability to clutch each line and make it sound as if the meaning had just struck her for the first time. With the right part, she may yet escape the Hello-Heat-Closer ghetto.
Interview, a short film, is worth watching for the interplay between its two leads, but as it progresses it becomes steadily weighed down by a reliance on melodramatic revelations. Moreover, Buscemi never finds a way of convincing us that this claustrophobic duologue deserves a place in the cinema. On stage Interview might work as an exercise in Grade B Mamet (or Grade C Pinter), but stretched out across a movie screen it seems very thin indeed.
Still, Buscemi is to be congratulated for finding time to pay dynamic tribute to Theo van Gogh. Mind you, the Dutchman would probably be outraged to learn that few sane journalists will object to his criticism of the profession and that most actors are immune to accusations of triviality. At any rate, we certainly wouldn't have wished him dead for expressing those views.
