IN ITS transition from novel to film, The Quiet American is a star-crossed venture.

First filmed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz in 1958, the original was beset by the post-McCarthy zeitgeist in the United States. Deemed controversial and subversive, Mankiewicz was forced to tiptoe around sensitive issues - much to the chagrin of author Graham Greene, who wrote the book to draw attention to the disastrous US foreign policy in IndoChina.

This time The Quiet American was delayed by the post-September 11 frenzy in the United States. Though the circumstances may differ, the film's message is the same and is as relevant as ever.

If he can't get a scoop, the jaded, ageing British journalist Thomas Fowler (Michael Caine) will be forced to leave Saigon and return to England for which he no longer cares.

Then Alden Pyle (Brendan Fraser) arrives, convinced his political intervention can save the world and redeem Fowler's Vietnamese lover Phuong (Hai Yen). Although Fowler senses a story behind Pyle's arrival, he is caught up trying to preserve the status quo.

Greene's story is a powerful one, full of clever parallels on different levels and compelling, gritty humanity.

With the exception of some weak dialogue, the movie suffers on only one count: Brendan Fraser.

As the so-called quiet American, Fraser is not quiet enough. Pyle, as Greene wrote him, was methodical, his silence offset by grand, fervent political ideas (or ideals) just below the surface.

His reticence was the protective armour against an off-kilter world he wanted to set right. To speak would have spelled death. And in Pyle's case, it eventually does.

But Fraser just doesn't nail the role. He's wishywashy one moment and argumentative the next, groping at vague ideas director Philip Noyce told him he ought to have. Greene's Pyle, however, was resolutely convinced of his own rightness, however idealistic.

It does follow the book closely and for that I suppose we ought to be thankful.

If only Fraser could have stepped into Pyle's shoes as expertly as Caine stepped into Fowler's - but to expect subtle perfection from Hollywood might be as impossibly idealistic as Pyle.

See it at ABC