The Coen Brothers have a history of bringing movies with an immediate impact to the screen, drama being their forte, with a lower number of comedy capers. If you count early hits such as ‘Blood Simple’ and ‘Fargo’ as early examples of their rising dramatic credibility, and their recent ‘No Country for Old Men’ as being the heaviest hitter to-date, it is apparent that their comedic efforts are less regarded. This being a comedy, it is somewhat less certain as a production from the Coen estate.

Brad Pitt, George Clooney, John Malkovich, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton , Claire Danes and Dermot Mulroney all star, but it is surprising who is pushed out first. The film opens in a typical modern off world view, this time by satellite, zeroing in on an office in Langley, Virginia, Washington as Osbourne Cox (Malkovich) is being pulled off a case, and who, in a fit of pique, quits his post. In an attempt to create a source of income and to do something of interest he decides a memoir would be appropriate, and begins to write this in earnest as an expose of the agency and its failures. His efforts fall into the wrong hands however, as the Russians et a copy of the output.

The problem is the plot, which seems to assume that all of these people should be as shallow as itself, and that the entire female cast is adulterous and untrustworthy, resulting in a farce that transcends their immediate control. Pitt is presented as a keep fit freak with an iPod addiction who is in a wide-eyed ‘Five go to Smugglers Cove’ type story, and Clooney is in a sexual addiction car crash, but both fail to ignite. Neither of the lead actors fill the parts portrayed, since Pitt always looks too sharp to be playing the dumbell, and Clooney too worldly wise for the lovers foil. The CIA are portrayed as too inept to be trusted to collect book tokens, and the ladies are in and out of beds at the drop of a hat and none of them have the warmth of a real life character.

7.5/10 Overall the premise is pretty good, a cleverly stated look at the paranoia in the USA’s big cities, it is intelligent and watchable, but funny? It reaches the highs sporadically, the performances sometimes shine, particularly Malkovich as the foulmouthed alcoholic and Swinton’s sour haughtiness, but fails to get the consistency or the credibility that it aims for, it is in fact instantly forgettable, and with a cast of such talent that cannot be a good thing.