Back during the 2004 presidential election campaign, Sean Penn was one of the many actors predicting that a Bush re-election would be the sure sign of the apocalypse. Under a Bush presidency, went their thinking, free speech rights would be squashed by an over-censorious FCC. While the recent reunion of the Backstreet Boys leads me to believe that the end of days may be very very near, I don’t think George W. Bush has much control over what is polluting America’s airwaves. Despite the draconian efforts of the FCC, over-the-hill boy bands will always be trying to make a quick buck and “Goodies” will still be played on top-40 radio. But if the Four Horsemen ride into town tomorrow, I, unlike Sean Penn, do not think it’s because of one trigger-happy U.S. President. But if Sean Penn is just another one of those amazingly-talented, hopelessly-left-wing Hollywood types, why is The Interpreter, his latest movie, so darn conservative?

The Interpreter opened a couple weeks ago to mixed reviews. Sure, it’s a bit slow and a bit long and some of its plot holes are so large that even John Madden could fit through them, but all in all it’s a fairly well-acted and well-written piece of cinema. Granted, The Interpreter was never meant to be the political statement of Fahrenheit 9/11, or even Supersize Me, but in today’s politically charged climate, no movie about the United Nations can go without a bit of a political message.

Interpreter Director Sydney Pollack recently revealed that he has a bit of a soft-spot for the U.N. In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Pollack professed, "There's music the U.N. makes just by being there. I don't have to do much except photograph it properly so that it sings along with them [Interpreter stars Penn and Nicole Kidman]." Pollack’s words must be music to any devoted multilaterals ears. The Interpreter itself seems to echo Pollack’s mushy sentiments. But in their endeavor to aggrandize the U.N., Pollack and Penn end up revealing the international body’s horrible weakness.

The film’s plot begins as U.N. interpreter Silvia Broome (Nicole Kidman) overhears the plotting of two assassins on the U.N. General Assembly floor. She soon learns that the target is African dictator Edmund Zuwanie. This brings Tobin Keller (Sean Penn), a Secret Service investigator, into her life. The plot thickens as Broome’s militant socialist past is revealed and New York City is bombarded by a terrorist attack and diplomatic intrigue. Ultimately, The Interpreter would like to conclude that the lying down of arms and forgiveness for past grievances - the kind of “quiet diplomacy” favored by the U.N. - is the best bet for world peace and personal salvation.

But somewhere between Pollack’s initial aerial shots of U.N. headquarters and the tense Zuwanie assassination attempt, this message gets turned around. By obsessively filming U.N. headquarters in New York, Pollack hopes to bring the 1950’s-era structure to life in all its glory. While some shots of the General Assembly floor do portray the U.N. in this glorified light, the many aerial views that dot the movie from start to finish paint a very different picture. In these shots, the U.N. isn’t a shimmering beacon or a New Jerusalem, but a decaying monolith of an era passed. The once-pristine white walls of the 2nd Avenue landmark are now yellowed slabs of concrete stained with black soot and smog. Even the General Assembly floor, tucked away from the corrosive pollution of New York, seems antiquated in its dull color palate and art-deco flourishes.

Then there’s the plot itself which, while endorsing the theoretical methods of the United Nations, displays how truly ineffective the body is at pursuing its goals. In the film, the General Assembly floor isn’t just a meeting place for the world’s diplomats, it’s a place where terrorist regimes feel strangely comfortable, where assassination plots are hatched, and where the French ambassador receives an oddly large proportion of speaking time. It’s also a place where with a few transparently cynical and insincere words about elections and democracy, a genocidal dictator can buy a turned shoulder from the international community.

And ultimately it is Sean Penn’s reckless, country music lovin’ American Secret Service officer that saves the day when the U.N.’s own complicity with dictators and tyrants catches up with it. The Interpreter’s attempt to show the U.N. at its best – promoting peace through compassion and understanding – backfires. Pollack and Penn may want their audience to be hypnotized by the golden U.N. emblem that still stands behind the General Assembly podium, but when push comes to shove, it’s the rust and decay that really shine through.