Munich appears to be conflicted between two separate vantages on the Israel-Palestine conflict, one significantly more interesting than the other, and thus never quite converges into the Great Movie that it very well could (should) be. These are as follows: (1) a rumination on the futility of revenge-based combat, within the broader context of the real-world struggle it depicts, all framed through the psychological effects on an individual participant (the wonderful Eric Bana); (2) a Michael-Mann-esque action/thriller centred on Israel's covert operation in retaliation to Black September. It is through the talents of Steven Spielberg that this combination occasionally works, and works well; his directing is expectedly brilliant throughout (there must be about a dozen beautiful shots of/through car windows and mirrors here), almost to a fault - the sleekness and effortless polish of the cinematography is jarring within the setting of gritty action, making the assassination scenes relatively stale and repetitive (especially given the lengthy runtime), yet still oftentimes entertaining (e.g. A Hitchcock-inspired scene with the daughter of a target re-entering the house where a bomb is planted). Film (1) is where Munich almost shines, particularly when focusing on Bana's personal conflict between country and family, revenge and religion (less touched upon but still present), and his own resulting guilt. It rarely dives deep enough into the potential character study though, in part due to being weighed down by film (2) - which itself suffers from lack of characterisation, of the Israelis but also especially the Palestinians, who never receive more than a few minutes screen-time each - and equally as a consequence of the attempt at generalising the conflict to one of countries at war, rather than focusing on our protagonist's own war with himself. When going all in in the latter aspect, the film excels: its best sequence is probably Bana tearing apart his apartment, panic-stricken about a hidden bomb (huge The Conversation vibes), then riddled with grief after the deaths of his partners. Other attempts however - i.e. An embarrassingly out of place penultimate scene wherein a ridiculous score plays over Bana mid-climax, intercut with nightmares of his mission (I understand what Spielberg was going for here, but the delivery is baffling to the point of being laughable) - are less successful. Indeed, Munich ends a little clumsily compared to its first two hours, and ultimately fails to become truly special. Surprisingly earnest in its attempt to play both sides, even if its biases clearly show favour towards Israel - though I don't believe Spielberg fully delivered on the potential for greatness here, his withheld sentimentality and delving into unfamiliar genres is admirable, and many of the film's sentiments sadly ring true: "There is no peace at the end of this."