The film opens before the Lebanese Civil War with U.S. diplomat Mason
Skiles (Jon Hamm), on the last good day of his life, using a brilliant
analogy to explain the political situation in Lebanon to his party
guests. Even the way the guests have arranged
themselves, as Skiles put it: Christians on one side, Muslim on the
other and Jack Daniels in the middle, reflects the zeitgeist that
includes protestations from the Americans that they don’t want to be a
permanent presence there. It’s the perfect introduction to both the
man’s intellect and to the hopeless conundrum that is the country that
will mark him forever. His next move, the one where his heart will rule
his head (and his otherwise flawless political instincts), will prove to
be his downfall, and a damning object lesson for us about making that
mistake as the story unfolds.
That moment of sentiment costs him his beloved wife, his career, and
his peace of mind. Ten years or so on, he’s back in the United States,
barely scraping by in a haze of alcohol, when the government taps him
for a special mission to broker the release of a CIA agent being held
hostage back in Beirut. The money is good. Too good. Plus, the Lebanese
kidnappers have asked for Skiles by name, even though he’s been out of
the game for a decade. Adding a complication is the fact that the
hostage is Cal (Mark Pellegrino), Skiles erstwhile best friend who
played an unintended part in the tragedy that sent Skiles into a
tailspin.
The script is a literate excursion into chaos. In the
middle east of 1992, allegiances are the most ephemeral of commodities,
and intelligence, the military kind, the most valuable. Nothing is
direct, from the government’s conscription of Skiles via an old
acquaintance, to the blandly smiling embassy officer Sandy
Crowder (Rosemary Pilcher), who is unshakeable in pressuring, ever so
politely, Skiles into leaving a Beirut bar with her to go to the
destination that they both know is as fictitious as the cover story that
brought Skiles back to Lebanon. What is so masterful about this writing
is that we already know that nothing is what it seems, but the reveals
are still surprising, and it’s not just the sudden gunshot to the back
of the head from a completely unexpected source, or the explosion that
comes out of nowhere. There are emotional undertones that are as
compelling as the usual espionage tropes: Cal’s wife confronting Skiles
with brittle vitriol and Crowder’s personal as well as professional
obligations finding both resonance and dissonance.
In the center, along with the Jack Daniels, is Skiles. The film,
for all its intrigues, is at heart a character study, and Jon Hamm with a character who insistently defies anyone to get too close, is equally, if not quite as successfully, determined, not to care
about anyone or anything. In the end, the mystery of what Skiles is
doing at any given moment is what drives the film, and our interest.
Beirut is understated in its suspense, but it’s perhaps all the more
effective for that approach as it explores its cynical view of
realpolitks of the region. There are no principles, only deals to be
struck, and advantages, however fleeting, to be gained.