C.I.A. agent Roger Ferris (Leonardo DiCaprio, right) searches for a high-ranking terrorist with the aid of Jordanian Intelligence head Hani Salaam (Mark Strong) in the political thriller Body of Lies. (Warner Bros. Entertainment)

In Ridley Scott’s ambitious, sometimes frustrating thriller Body of Lies, Leonardo DiCaprio plays Roger Ferris, a C.I.A. agent working on the ground in the Middle East. Although smarter than his colleagues, fluent in Arabic and a master of disguise, Ferris possesses an even rarer gift: a fair, compassionate nature, which enables him to win the trust of citizens in Iraq, Syria and Jordan.

Ferris’s boss, Ed Hoffman (Russell Crowe, in slovenly schlub mode), doesn’t care a whit about relationship-building. He sees terrorist cells blooming in out-of-the-way corners in the Middle East that could obliterate the U.S., and he wants Ferris to lose the sissy-boy emotions and get down to the business of destroying them. Hoffman gives Ferris orders via cell phone, while munching on cereal or chomping cigars in the safety of his Washington suburb.

Body of Lies establishes these fundamentally different approaches to the war on terror right at the outset of the film. Coupled with a script by William Monahan (the whiz behind The Departed), the premise practically guarantees the movie will crackle with all kinds of strutting male bravado, double-crossing and cat-and-mouse tension. But, as Hoffman repeatedly explains, you can’t always trust appearances: “Your friends look like your enemies and your enemies look like your friends.” Likewise, a well-photographed, respectable Ridley Scott production could prove to be a lukewarm Hollywood action flick in disguise.

There is a smart movie inside Body of Lies that’s itching to bust out. It's evident in Ferris’ dealings with his contacts on the ground; Body of Lies might be the first in the recent slew of paranoid post-9/11 films to suggest that people living in the Middle East are thinking, three-dimensional beings rather than screaming, grotesque bogeymen. It’s also apparent in the film’s juicy setup, in which Ferris creates a bogus extremist organization in the hope that his faux bombings will lure a real terrorist leader out of hiding.

But the film’s enormous potential is squandered with one sloppy narrative choice after another. The movie’s pacing is shaky, and scenes that should be edge-of-your-seaters (like when Ferris sneaks into a hotel room to plant evidence on someone’s laptop) are executed so quickly that there’s no time to generate suspense. Before the intricate dummy terrorist group plotline can achieve any momentum, a clunky, implausible love story between Ferris and an Iranian nurse threatens to derail the intrigue altogether. Any further hope for genuine excitement is dashed by some heavy-handed bits of dialogue that telegraph plot points far in advance. (When somebody gives a speech about how you must Never! Lie! Ever!, you can assume it will become an issue in Act Three.)

Roger Ferris becomes emotionally involved with Iranian nurse Aisha (Golshifteh Farahani) in Body of Lies. (Warner Bros. Entertainment)

In between the often convoluted plot machinations, DiCaprio’s character trots around the globe to so many cities, it will leave you thinking, “If it’s Tuesday, this must be Amsterdam!” and longing for the far-superior Bourne movies, where one has the opportunity to savour the sexy locales for a few minutes before seeing everything get blown to bits.

Indeed, under its clever surface, Scott’s film is often about blowin’ things up real good. Body of Lies boasts some truly bombastic (and often confusing) action sequences that would look more at home in a Michael Bay movie. When Ferris realizes, while standing in crowded marketplace, that he is about to be ambushed for the umpteenth time, he declares, “Oh, no! Not again!” The audience can relate, since the violence in this movie is as frequent, repetitive and numbing as Ferris’ telephone arguments with Hoffman.

By the time Body of Lies neared its underwhelming conclusion, I was thinking about Leonardo DiCaprio’s prodigious career. From This Boy’s Life (1993) onwards, he has displayed an uncanny knack for portraying misunderstood rebels and outsiders with just enough cockiness and mettle to stand up and stick it to the man. Sometimes, there’s a father figure on hand to guide him, but mostly Leo goes it alone.

Being a lone wolf is a tremendous burden to bear. It might mean risking your life for your beliefs in the Middle East, or it might mean having to carry an entire movie on your lanky, boyish shoulders. There’s no question DiCaprio has the talent and raw charisma to salvage mediocre material. But should he have to?

Body of Lies opens Oct. 10.

Lee Ferguson is a writer based in Toronto.