the Jackal

When the arrest of a prominent underworld figure in a Moscow discotheque goes awry, the dead hood's
brother hires the legendary Jackal to avenge the death by taking out a prominent American official. As
the assassin travels around Europe and North America in elaborate disguises making preparations for the
event, he is tracked by FBI deputy director Carter Preston (Sidney Poitier) and Russian intelligence
office Valentina Koslova (Diane Venora). They, in turn, enlist the aid of imprisoned IRA operative
Declan Mulqueen (Richard Gere), one of only two people who can identify the Jackal by sight. Once
aligned in this shaky axis the hunt is on, with the killer zeroing in on his still unknown prey while the
authorities – and the audience – scramble to identify and second-guess his plans. The eventual sweaty
showdown pits the Jackal one-on-one against Mulqueen, who has unfinished business with the psychotic
assassin and his personal taunts.

Ironically, it is the character of Mulqueen that carries the emotional weight of the film and Richard Gere
who emerges as the surprise focus of The Jackal for his crafty portrayal of a man actually committed to
something. His first meeting with Preston and Koslova in the exercise yard of a prison is a modest
triumph of expressive acting and crafty blocking, one of a few scenes in which director Caton-Jones
exhibits an original approach to wide-screen composition and a firm adherence to Zinnemann's
craftsmanlike approach to picture making (there's an excellent article on the director, who died this past
March firmly opposed to the remake, in the September-October issue of "Film Comment").

So too the
subplot of Mulqueen's supposed inability to "protect his women" has unexpected emotional resonance in
a film that is elsewhere satisfied to have shady figures drink from heavy tumblers and characters say
things like "A man like this doesn't make mistakes" and "What's her story then?".

Only Diane Venora as the steely operative Koslova makes a lasting
impression among the supporting cast, using a withering stare, languid
way with a cigarette and a Garbo-ish accent to elevate her character
above cliche. As for Willis, he's competent if not particularly
distinctive, admirably masking that annoying smirk but failing to give
his Jackal the charisma and/or panache of Fox's laconic, almost rakish
original. Whereas an unknown could've brought genuine, unexpected
menace to the part, Willis is, well, never not Bruce Willis. He
probably got the movie funded, but the baggage of his persona certainly impedes any momentum the
story builds.

Technically, the film is a marvel of sharp edges and diverse locations, with the Panavision
cinematography of Karl Walter Lindenlaub (Gere's other new movie Red Corner, Independence Day,
Caton-Jones' previous film Rob Roy) underscoring the baker's dozen main locations and the production
design of Michael White (The Rock, Crimson Tide) providing a neat twist on the climactic set piece
inspired by Washington's Metro Center subway station that posits a more pedestrian-friendly and
dramatically lit space than the one that was actually built.

In the end, The Jackal is a cynical, heavy-handed imitation of a unique thriller that is technically
impressive but makes the all-too-common mistake of assuming that bigger is better. While it may in fact
rock, it does so to no discernible purpose and won't for very long in the fickle pre-holiday marketplace.

Directed by Michael Caton-Jones

Starring
Bruce Willis, Richard Gere,
Sidney Poitier, Diane Venora, J.K. Simmons,
Mathilda May, Stephen Spinella,
Richard Lineback, Jack Black

Screen Story and Screenplay by Chuck Pfarrer