The Informant! is another ironically pedantic, deadpan comedy-drama, infused with satire on contemporary American culture, which seems to have become a kind of up-market sub-genre lately, many of which are made by Steven Soderbergh or one of his star acolytes. The Men Who Stare At Goats, for instance, is almost the same film in a different milieu. The Informant! presents a kind of pizzicato variation on the tune of Prince of the City, with Matt Damon having a good time playing Mark Whitacre, a folksy, toupee-clad executive for ADM, an Illinois-based produce company engaged in secretive price fixing with international competitors. Whitacre, at the encouragement of his loyal wife Ginger (the always welcome Melanie Lynskey, although she seems to be turning into Drew Barrymore) approaches FBI agent Mark Sheppard (an effective Scott Bakula) and wavers between glee and squirming anxiety in playing the part of whistle-blower.
But just as it looks like Paul could become the ‘white hat’ hero he so desperately wishes to be, his own fantastical nature, powered by a deceptive, manic-depressive streak a mile-wide, digs a trap for himself that only gets deeper. Damon’s fine comedic performance and a playfully retro Marvin Hamlisch score backs up one of Soderbergh’s most fluent efforts to fuse his arty and popular sides. But the material had far richer potential for clammy psychodrama, as well for making a deeper incision into a half-mad white-collar criminal’s desperate desire to play the good guy, and indeed conviction that he is one, as a vital political parable. The Informant! is, like almost all of Soderbergh’s serious films, something of a missed opportunity.
