Directed by: Steven Soderbergh
Starring: Scott Bakula, Matt Damon, Tony Hale, Melanie Lynskey, Joel McHale, Patton Oswalt, Dick Smothers, Tom Smothers
Rating: R

Matt Damon stars in The Informant! (Courtesy photo)

From Out of Sight in 1998 to Ocean’s 11 in 2002, director Steven Soderbergh had an amazing run of five great movies. All five were exceptionally crafted genre films—some so good they were elevated above their genres. His magic touch suddenly was lost when he directed a progression of indulgent, poorly executed, often “experimental” movies. Now Soderbergh has started a new winning streak with The Informant!.

There were a few ways to film the story of Mark Whitacre, the Archer Daniels Midland (ADM) executive who exposed the company’s price-fixing to the FBI while simultaneously embezzling millions. But it’s hard to imagine the best approach would be a comic version of 1970s-style thrillers like Three Days of the Condor and The Parallax View. But that’s exactly the approach Soderbergh chose to take, complete with a bouncy Marvin Hamlisch soundtrack. It probably shouldn’t work—and for some critics it didn’t. I thought it was sublime, a sly way to explore the fascinating enigma of Mark Whitacre.

It’s 1991, and Whitacre is the youngest vice president in the history of agri-business giant ADM. The problem of a possible mole in Whitacre’s division leads to a minor FBI investigation led by agent Mark Shepard (Scott Bakula). Prodded by his wife, Ginger (Melanie Lynskey), Whitacre shares a bigger story with Shepard: price-fixing between ADM and competitors. With that gesture Whitacre becomes the highest-ranking whistle-blower in U.S. history. Over the next few years Whitacre becomes a perfect inside man, making hundreds of incriminating tapes while imagining himself as a real spy. Not only does he fail to understand the magnitude of his actions, but it becomes painfully apparent to all that Whitacre has a little problem keeping his mouth shut. And being honest. And not embezzling.

Writer Scott Burns often treats us to Whitacre’s internal monologue: while navigating a highly sensitive business transaction, he may be thinking about where he should purchase his ties. While getting debriefed by his FBI handlers, he’ll marvel at the ability of bears to camouflage themselves when stalking penguins. Whitacre is some kind of nut; it’s just not clear what kind and to what a degree. In spite of his effort to make the shady dealings of ADM the story, we can see how it was inevitable that Whitacre become the story. I applaud Soderbergh and Burns for realizing that the absurdity of the story had to be presented as a dark comedy.

They were also wise to cast an actor of real depth to play a character who is ridiculous on the surface, but far more complex underneath. Matt Damon may not be completely convincing as the middle-aged Whitacre, in spite of the pounds he gained for the role. But he more than makes up for it in infectiousness. Mark Whitacre is a marvelous addition to Damon’s growing collection of memorable characters.

Where Soderbergh really pulls a neat trick is with the bulk of his supporting cast. So many people here play against type—and do it beautifully—it’s hard to account for all of them. Among the comic actors playing it straight are Tony Hale (Arrested Development’s Buster), Patton Oswalt (Ratatouille) and both Smothers brothers. Really.

Soderbergh even recruits voice-over veterans Richard Horvitz and Frank Welker for minor roles. Joel McHale has no trouble transitioning from hosting Talk Soup to a playing straight-faced FBI agent. And Scott Bakula (Quantum Leap) plays Shepard like a loyal old hound dog. I’d never thought I’d picture Bakula as an Oscar contender. On the other hand, I often wonder what the always delightful Melanie Lynskey (Away We Go) must do to get the recognition she deserves.

So many recent biopics—Ali, A Beautiful Mind, W.—have tried and failed to truly understand their subjects. By piecing out Whitacre’s actions as an unspooling mystery—in other words, by keeping essential information away from the viewer—Soderbergh and writer Scott Burns actually give a better insight into the man’s bipolar brain. Mark Whitacre is a true original, a beautifully schlumpy anti-protagonist.

The plot of The Informant! is labyrinthine, a thriller played out like a Laurel-and-Hardy comedy—it starts out fairly reasonable, then gets bigger, bigger, then explodes in absurdity. It doesn’t all work, but it never stops being fascinating.

Alex Manugian lives in Sherman Oaks, Calif. He grew up in Groton and has reviewed movies for Harvard readers for many years.