AReviewer A
Allied, which is Robert Zemeckis’s deft and diverting World War II romantic thriller, operates a bit like Casablanca in reverse. There are some similarities between the films, but I don’t want to press the comparison too far. For one thing, there is more Alfred Hitchcock than Michael Curtiz in its movie’s DNA. For another, whereas Casablanca put forth a spine-stiffening anti-fascist call to arms, Allied offers the comforts of elegant escapism. Its moral complexities and political ambiguities are intriguing rather than troubling, its ethical and emotional agonies a diversion from rather than a reflection of our own. Which is just fine with me. There are missteps to pick, of course. Mr. Pitt, playing a Canadian wing commander in the Royal Air Force, has apparently drawn inspiration from the trees in the great forests of the North. He is handsome, trim and efficient, but the same might be said of a wooden canoe, and his character’s stoical reserve often feels more like an empty space than a deep pool of untapped feeling. They are puffy and sentimental, the cinematic equivalent of a cloying dessert following an otherwise well-prepared meal.