★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Tom Tykwer brings us a fabulous performance from Tom Hanks in this mismatched but affable comedy drama based on Dave Eggers’ novel of the same name. Hanks stars as Alan Clay, a businessman whose life is slowly declining. Hoping to recoup his losses with one big pitch, Clay travels to Saudi Arabia in the hopes of selling a revolutionary piece of video-call tech to the King, but is beset at every turn by delays, misinformation and bemused employees, humoured along the way by cab driver Yousef (Alexander Black). Clay’s mounting discomfort and stress is seemingly diverted into a large cyst growing on his back, but relief may yet be found in the form of Sarita Choudhury as a curious doctor, Zahra.





It’s the innate likeability of Hanks as a leading man that prevents A Hologram for the King slipping into Eat Pray Love territory: that is to say, a middle-class American finding new direction through the ‘weird and wonderful’ insights of foreign cultures. Clay has massive potential to become a cloying presence as the plot develops, but both Hanks’ charisma and the fact that the film makes very little of the Saudi surroundings into a perverse spectacle keep things afloat when the plot enters tricky waters. True, the fish-out-of-water comedy is delivered thick and fast in the opening stanza, but it’s more to do with Clay’s feelings of disconnect than any ignorance toward the culture swallowing him up. Plus, it’s just plain funny and sardonic enough to get away with it.





In what moments there are that scratch beneath the surface, Hologram would make an interesting double bill with Demolition: both deal with the inability to handle relational upsets and their subsequent diversion, but where the latter lacked consistent tone, the former excels, not least due to the warm, ingratiating turns from Black and Choudhury. Yousef’s place in the drama is as unapologetic jester, whilst the plot thread belonging to Zahra and Alan’s burgeoning connection lends the story a sweet, comforting flavour. And all this placed in crisp contrast to the surrounding deserts, shot as if they were the distant dunes of Mars.





But for all the grace in its characters and composure, the structure needs work: the wacky Talking Heads intro – widely advertised in the marketing – is over in the blink of an eye, and there’s an entire final act sequence between sets of e-mails that is indulgent at best. Certain key players are dropped remorselessly once they’ve delivered drops of worldly wisdom to Clay, lending the events of A Hologram for the King a disappointingly inconsequential feel. It’s a mess, but one that’s easily forgiven and forgotten.