Review by Ian Keogh

Moss is on the run from something of such consequence that when he sees NATO planes flying overhead in a remote area he actually assesses whether they might be searching for him or just completing manoeuvres. He’s American, but in Scotland when he arrives in a small coastal town with an oil rig visible at a distance in the sea. In quick succession he flirts with the woman who runs the cafe, takes employment on the oil rig, and finds the locals are very protective of the woman who runs the cafe. Moss, though, has his own agenda.

The Tourist features a clever plot from Brian Wood spotlighting the unreliable narrator. Moss is presumably being honest via his thoughts in narrative captions, but how much of what he tells others is the truth? He’s really the only character of consequence, though. Everyone else playing off his activities is single note, there to react to him, but no more, even Julie, the cafe owner, with whom a little more time is spent.

The cast is characterised by Toby Cypress in an unusual, but consistent style, constructed from wavy lines and shadows, with lips prominent and noses eccentric. In places the shadows are overdone, particularly when it comes to obscuring the details of the oil rig. It’s not that important to the story that it’s necessary to be shown in technical detail, but Cypress smudging so many areas draws attention to the technique, when it shouldn’t. The sparse style, though is very effective when it comes to action dominating the third act.

Moss and Julie growing close counterpoints the moments of violence that erupt, yet they’re secondary, as what makes The Tourist an effective drama is the periods in between. Is Moss what he claims to be, what we believe him to be, or what others think he is? It’s worth finding out.