STEVEN SODERBERGH’S THE INFORMANT! — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

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The Informant! is one of many masterworks from the sly and crafty filmmaker Steven Soderbergh. The film is like a cinematic onion, and over the course of more than 15 viewings, has repeatedly shown itself to be a brilliant piece of satirical storytelling. The screenplay by Scott Z. Burns is fascinating in many respects, and Matt Damon delivers what’s probably the best (and my favorite) performance of his excellent career. This is a deceptive and tricky and extremely clever black comedy that’s going to confound many viewers and delight others. Getting old-school Marvin Hamlisch to score the film primarily with a kazoo was a typically absurdist move by Soderbergh, who always surprises with bold filmmaking decisions and his unconventional sense of humor. He’s a filmmaker who has openly stated that the various films by Richard Lester have continually inspired him; The Informant! feels like possibly his most Lester-esque piece of filmmaking.

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The Informant! is an extremely funny movie but in a very ironic, irreverent fashion. And yet, it’s also completely terrifying in that you’re basically watching a schizophrenic yet genius-level individual flush their entire life down the toilet. Comparisons to Michael Mann’s The Insider are appropriate but not entirely accurate. Sure, the landscape is big business and both films feature “whistle blowers” as their protagonists, but The Informant! struts its stuff as a devilish social comedy, whereas Mann’s masterpiece was a rigorous journalism thriller on par with the likes of All the President’s Men. The Informant! is yet another instance of Soderbergh taking wild creative chances, and having those chances pay off like gangbusters. Damon’s interior monologue which is heard in voice-over is some of the most dryly hilarious stuff you’re likely to find in any movie, and what did the fantastic Scott Bakula do to deserve that haircut?! There’s a deep and inspired supporting cast of comedians playing it straight (more Soderbergh tomfoolery), and as usual, the filmmaker acted as his own cinematographer and editor, because, you know, Peter Andrews and Marry Ann Bernard POWER.

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