The Quiet American (2002)

Phillip Noyce

Australia, USA, Germany

118 min, color, English

The new adaptation of Graham Greene's 1955 classic is true to the original story unlike the rabid anti-communist version produced in the late 1950s. The events take place on the eve of the French demise in Indo-China and the dawn of the American involvement.

Amidst the chaos of French colonialists battling Viet Cong communists for the soul of the country, Saigon is a seemingly sleepy place that offers much of the pleasures of the Old World without the strings attached. There are opium dens, dancing girls, and faithful lovers who do not cost much to maintain.

Fowler (Michael Caine) is the jaded British corresponded for The Times who has abandoned a wife in London, all but stopped writing reports for the newspaper, and shares his time between Phuong (Do Thi Hai Yen), a beautiful ex-dancer who is at least 30 years his junior and the haze of opium smoke. This relationship is perfectly complementary: he loves her because he has no choice and she loves him because he pays her to.

The affable quiet American Pyle (Brendan Fraser) rudely interrupts this idyll by inappropriately falling in love with Phuong. He tries to be gentlemanly about it and approaches Fowler for permission to court her, fully convinced that she means nothing to the old hand and that he, Pyle, can offer her so much more.

Curiously, while both men struggle to obtain the object of their desires, Phuong's feelings are never mentioned although they should be obvious to anyone who cares to see them. She loves neither yet each of the two is convinced that she loves him.

The (potential) love triangle story is itself set amid the violent world of politics and corruption. When Fowler has to find a story to justify his continued stay in Saigon, he stumbles across terrorist atrocities that seem committed by neither the French nor the communists. Inexplicably, he meets Pyle who supposedly has followed him to discuss Phuong but disappears overnight without getting an answer.

When it becomes clear that Pyle works for the CIA which is funding the rise of a third power in Vietnam, the nationalist General The, who will help contain communism but without being a French puppet, these politics enter the love triangle. Phuong leaves Fowler when she discovers that he is not going to get a divorce from his wife and goes with Pyle who promises her marriage in the U.S.

Pyle, the naive, and therefore deadly dangerous, idealist believes that by financing atrocious terrorist acts, America can justify its involvement in Vietnam. The old Jesuit "the end justifies the means" argument causes the deaths of many innocent villagers and citizens of Saigon. Fowler, who is repelled by colonialism in the first place, becomes even more disgusted with this rather inhuman approach. When he is asked by the communists to deliver Pyle so they can "talk" to him, he faces a most serious dilemma.

Should he betray his friend (who has saved his life even though he could have abandoned him and taken Phuong) or should he save him? If he betrays him, is this because of the moral imperative aroused by Pyle's blind politics or is it because of the need to get Phuong back? Is one more "acceptable" than the other? Did the lengthy questioning of Pyle really finally convinced Fowler that the quiet American had to die? Or was it just the excuse he needed to have his love rival removed?

"Sooner or later, Mr. Fowler, you have to take sides if you are to remain human," his Vietnamese assistant tells him. And sides Fowler does take for reasons entirely human, whether they be lofty morals or less lofty love. When Pyle is eliminated, Fowler gets Phuong back and remains in Saigon, now fully committed to staying there and reporting the switch from one colonial rule to another.

The Quiet American is sumptuously filmed by none other than Christopher Doyle and his style is evident in every shot. While Noyce did manage to convey the ambiguousness of Fowler's motivation, he could not resist several cheap shots at the Americans at the end of the film, somewhat lessening its dramatic impact by replacing the personal drama with a political one. The series of headlines that trace America's descent in hell convey the idea that Fowler was right, and that the Americans were evil. Whether this is so is beside the point. The film did not need it and the book, which was published in 1955, certainly did not have it.

Overall, an enjoyable experience that may disturb the more naive in the audience who do not know about how the American involvement in Vietnam began. The film also raises inevitably uncomfortable questions about the impending Second Gilf War, which perhaps explains a lot of the critical success it has garnered.

February 18, 2003