"The International"

MPAA rating: R

There's a nifty, intense shootout in the middle of director Tom Tykwer's "The International." Interpol agent Louis Salinger (Clive Owen) has chased a suspected hit man known as The Consultant (Brian F. O'Byrne) into New York's famed Guggenheim museum, where the two confront a gaggle of other hit men and must suddenly rely on each other's skills to survive.

For five or six minutes "The International" is riveting (and the Guggenheim gets riveted), and abruptly one is aware that, yes! one is indeed watching a Clive Owen flick.

Unfortunately, the hour before and the hour after the mauling at the Guggenheim are pretty much taken up with a convoluted series of talking-head sequences, so many people telling us why the International Bank of Business and Credit (IBBC) has become too powerful for the world to endure. The IBBC has become a conduit for organized crime, you see, presently conducting global arms deals with various nations—for profit or for something far more sinister.

Those who attempt to thwart the IBBC's rogue ambition happen to die—snippets that now and then disrupt the flick's political rhetoric—but then the chatter returns, and the more or less confounding, convoluted plot gets in the way of Clive Owen just trying to be Clive Owen—which I'll normally pay good money to watch.

The dialogue doesn't help either. Sometimes it's wooden and pointless, mostly when Naomi Watts as New York assistant D.A. speaks; other times it's overtly philosophical and foreboding, when guys talk. (Dr. Freud? Are you available this Thursday?)

Behind all the grousing and occasional killing, the basic premise seems to be that money is indeed the root of all evil. But it's just so darn fun to have that whatever else money buys shouldn't really matter (apparently the film's oh-so-subtle subtext and morality caution of the day).

Because renegade gunmen aren't the real villains here— they're bankers, having recently taken the baton from Texas oilmen and terrorists, in Hollywood's latest attempt to isolate and identify the cause of all this angsty 21st century commotion. Yet somewhere behind this newage morality lesson, we seem to have lost a movie.

"Echelon Conspiracy"

MPAA rating: R

Call it "Eagle Eye Lite" (or "Eagle Eye" ripoff, if one is feeling disingenuous). However, should you not have seen last year's techno-thriller joyride "Eagle Eye" nor care to rehashthat film's somewhat far-fetched plot concerning cellphones, high-tech conspiracies, omnipotent computers and world domination, let me tell you about

"Echelon Conspiracy."

It's all about cellphones, hightech conspiracies, omnipotent computers and world domination.

Shane West stars as Max Peterson, a 'puter geek who receives a mysterious cellphone that, among other things, tells him (via text messaging) to miss flights, play certain slot machines and win fortunes at blackjack. When those missed flights crash and casino jackpots ensue, Max is both intrigued and enthralled. But who is texting him, and why?

Edward Burns plays a casino security analyst and Ving Rhames an FBI agent; both quickly become interested in Max. Seems Max isn't the first person to have received a mysterious phone—but he is the only person still alive.

Even our National Security Agency (the NSA) is concerned about Max. Apparently something nasty is afoot.

So when we're not fearing our bankers, we should, it seems, be fearing our computers: Even if it's for our own benefit, they're on the verge of taking over the world.

"Echelon Conspiracy" is an okay-enough high-tech thriller, but it's been done before—one could even consider this a kind of "Terminator" prequel—and done better. The coincidences pile up, the chase scenes are weak and the action minimal.

Other than watching Max tussle with the beautiful and mysterious Kamila (Tamara Feldman)—the film's definite highlight—it's the same ol' same ol' in the technothriller department. Especially if you've seen "Eagle Eye."

Oh, and what's with the crankedup soundtrack (an intentional distraction perhaps?) and the convoluted Russian intervention (keeping us safe for our own good? What's up with that? Subliminal shades of "No Way Out"?). We indeed may be having trouble with our bankers and our hard drives, but I'm not sure the Russkis are faring any better at the moment. And they don't have Tamara Feldman.