Review: Amsterdam

Image courtesy of 20th Century Studios.

 David O. Russell's "Amsterdam" is an admirable misfire - a film that is consistent in being visually compelling throughout and kept me curious to know where was going, even if its ultimate destination is a little obvious and it never quite gels like it should. Much like his previous film, "Joy" - although that film was better - Russell's latest is a far cry from his best work: "Three Kings," "I Heart Huckabee's," "American Hustle" and "Silver Linings Playbook."

One of the film's biggest problems is its capacity to continuously get waylaid by its idiosyncrasies. The story will move forward an inch and then characters will meander into a rambling monologue - or a quirky diversion will suddenly take precedence over all else, often to the detriment of the overall film. Russell's style of directing actors has been known to be chaotic - to say the least - but it has worked better in previous efforts (for example, "Huckabee's," which was all over the place, but in a good way).

It's difficult to summarize a movie like this one. It starts out at the end of World War I, when a doctor named Burt Berendsen (Christian Bale) bonds with a soldier, Harold Woodman (John David Washington), in the predominantly Black platoon that he has been charged with overseeing, and the duo go on to form a friendship with a nurse named Valerie (Margot Robbie), although Harold's relationship with her eventually becomes more than platonic.

The three have a whirlwind friendship in Amsterdam, but Burt is called back to New York, where his wife and her upper crust family expect him to join their family practice, although Burt is more prone to helping those down on their luck. The trio splits up and it's not until 1933 when they reunite - this time, to solve the murder of their commander, whose daughter (Taylor Swift) has hired them for the job.

But another murder soon occurs, and Burt and Howard try to find a way to clear their names while at the same time figuring out who killed their beloved commander. Their misadventures lead them back to Valerie, who joins the men in the case. 

Suffice it to say, convoluted plot turns abound. The trio are notified by two spies (Michael Shannon and Mike Myers) that the murder may have to do with a secret society in the United States that is sympathetic to the burgeoning fascist governments in Italy and Germany, and they are told their best bet to get to the bottom of the conspiracy is to invite a revered general (Robert De Niro) to speak out against this secret cabal during an event at which Burt and Howard are planning to honor wounded war veterans.

As I'd mentioned, "Amsterdam" is never dull. During the course of its two-and-a-quarter-hour proceedings, I was always curious where it would land next. Ultimately, the film could be described as a messy misfire - but not one without merits. Although the characters often devolve into caricature, most of the massive cast - which also includes Zoe Saldana, Timothy Olyphant, Chris Rock, Andrea Riseborough, Rami Malek, Alessandro Nivola, Anya Taylor-Joy and Matthias Schoenaerts - acquit themselves well enough, Bale especially.

The film is full of visual wonders - war scenes, streetscapes of 1930s New York, elaborate mansions, you name it - and its visual style is impressive enough. It touches upon historic themes of eras past that feel unsettlingly relevant today as well. And despite its occasional tendency toward whimsy, there are some laughs. 

But, ultimately, it's not enough - "Amsterdam" feels like a movie bursting with personality that doesn't know how to direct it into a package that feels complete. As such, the film often feels aimless, even when it's entertaining, and unsure of what exactly it wants to say. Regardless, it's worth catching for those interested in Russell's overall body of work - but others might not know exactly what to make of it.