George Clooney’s films can be divided into two distinct halves: those he cracks a smile in and those he doesn’t. His performance in The American most definitely falls into the second category; along with the likes of Solaris, Syriana, The Good German etc.

Travelling around some of the most idyllic spots in Europe sounds like an easy life, but not so for Jack (Clooney). He’s an assassin for hire, who turns up when he needs to, gets the job done, then moves on.

Recently however, he has found that he has to look over his shoulder more often than usual, as it appears someone has got it in for him. He retreats to a small Italian town, trying to keep an even lower profile than normal. Whilst there, he’s contacted about a job, one that doesn’t even require him to kill anyone. He accepts it, but as time goes on, he begins to realise that there really is no-one he can trust.

Considering this is only his second full feature (his first being 2007’s well-received Control), Anton Corbijn – a notable photographer of famous musicians – proves that he also knows a thing or two about moving cameras.

The American is a travelogue interwoven with a thriller plot; at times it almost acts as a flashback to The Third Man, with a US citizen getting sucked into all sorts of trouble on European soil. The real difference however, is in Corbijn’s reluctance to fill spaces. Not only is there very little in the way of dialogue, he’s also in no real hurry to cut one scene to the next. In doing so, Corbijn gives his images plenty of time to breathe, often framing shots like an Ansel Adams landscape.

In anyone else’s hands, the pacing of the film could easily feel loose and laboured. Somehow though, Corbijn manages to create tension out of almost nothing. In truth, very little actually happens in the film, so when it does, audiences sit up and pay attention.

Corbijn dabbles with notions of religion and sexuality, with Frank befriending both a priest and prostitute, but makes no damning statements about either; in Frank’s world, they simply co-exist.

The main theme explored in the film is that of isolation; not only through Clooney’s character, who cuts himself from the world every which way he can, but also literally through his environment.

You can tell it’s one of those projects that Clooney does for love not money; not only does he not flash his Hollywood heartthrob smile, but he gives a one of his most subdued performances. In fact all his emotions are delivered from his eyes, which have clearly never acted so hard in their lives.

Despite Clooney’s involvement, there’s no denying this as being a truly European film. It’s not quite pure art-house fodder, but it’s getting there. At times it‘s a thing of beauty, albeit one heavily cloaked in bleakness. And its story certainly takes its sweet time getting going; it’s one of those journeys where the final destination isn’t quite as important as the manner in which it gets there.

The American may well be a thriller light on thrills, but with Corbijn behind the camera, it’s an absorbing, slow-burning watch that is always visually rewarding.