By Dwight Brown Film Critic for DwightBrownInk.com and NNPA News Wire
(***)
“There’s been a breach.” “We have a traitor.” “Who’s a suspect?” “Your wife!”
Titillating bits of conversation run the ground work for this fairly engrossing British spy/drama/thriller. Within minutes audiences will figure out the problem, complications and where the intricately laid out script by David Koepp (Mission: Impossible) will take them. It’s all administered and guided by the Oscar®-winning director Steven Soderbergh (Traffic), who is back on his game–big time. He makes this excursion intriguing from beginning to end.
Two secret agents at Britain’s National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC) are sleeping together. Well, they’re married, so that’s to be expected. What’s not to be expected is that one, George Woodhouse (Michael Fassbender, Shame), a top British intelligence officer, is being asked to track down and ferret out a double agent who’s ready to activate a destructive cyber worm called “Severus.” Malware run amuck. Clues point in several directions, and too many of them lead to Woodhouse’s sultry wife Kathryn St. Jean (Cate Blanchett, Carol). She isn’t the only suspect, but she’s on the list. And he can’t always track her whereabouts because she’s, in her own words, “Black Bag,” undercover.
The couple invites coworkers, who rouse suspicion over for dinner. George and Kathryn host. Guests sit around the table. The womanizer Freddy Smalls (Tom Burke, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga) shows up with his much younger and very jealous lover Clarissa (Marisa Abela, Back to Black), a cyber expert. The company’s resident shrink, Dr. Zoe Vaughn (Naomie Harris, Moonlight), sits beside her paramour and patient Col. James Stokes (Regé-Jean Page, Bridgerton). The six eye each other like whodunit and why? They’re curt and biting in a Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf way. They’ll depart and meet up again. At this home, the sleek offices at work and all around London. Until one of them is caught. Who will it be?
There are enough cloak and dagger elements here to capture the interest of adult viewers who want a smartly drawn spy tale that’s as sophisticated as a Dry Martini, with a briny olive. Some action scenes break up the drama and suspense, but not many. The opening segment starts with the camera, as guided by Soderbergh who is also the cinematographer, following Woodhouse around. Angles positioned over his shoulder make you feel like a fly tailing the operative as he glides in and out of a clandestine rendezvous. Woodhouse is given orders, a time frame and the most difficult task he’s ever faced.
Most scenes are cut down to their essentials, as per Soderbergh, who is also the editor. Credit the intrigue and dazzling technique to him. He has a vision. Nothing gets in his way. You’re likely to stay intrigued throughout. If the plot doesn’t hold your attention and the lack of action scenes lets your mind wander, his style brings you back again and again to a production that never loses its allure.
The pawns in his game are an extremely talented cast of actors who maintain Soderbergh’s satiny, urbane style. There isn’t a natural or casual performance in the entire movie. This is a sophisticated British spy thriller, and that’s the framework that binds them. Stilted line deliveries, fake shallow raconteurs, few outward emotions. It all works within the context of Soderbergh’s creation. Something like a party game. Not as shamelessly campy and funny as Glass Onion or Knives Out. Closer to solid espionage genre norms. Nothing based in reality. All just for adult fun.
Burke, Abela, Harris and Page fit into the ensemble quite nicely. Their roles are a bit more interesting than that of most supporting characters because of their intermingling in and out of offices, homes and hotel rooms. Add Gustaf Skarsgard and Kae Alexander to the mix in lesser roles and save the bravura scene stealing for the ever-over-acting Pierce Brosnan. The former James Bond lead seems quite comfortable as the agitated, well-clad boss who screams, “Find the leak!”
Considering the setup, some may imagine that this husband and wife might go berserk on each other. Like the couple in Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the movie and not the tepid Amazon series. Or crease the sheets and leave warm spots like Pitt and Jolie did. Yes, there are erotic moments. But no nudity, sex or anything that would make temperatures rise. It’s not that kind of party. Flirtations not fornication. Curiosity not hostility. Cagey not adversarial.
Fassbender, with his stiff face, is a study in restraint as power. Doesn’t do much, but you’re sure he’ll pull the trigger when it’s needed. His subtleness works to the character’s favor. Blanchett is a bit more grandiose. Like she’s on an off-Broadway stage, projecting to the cheap seats. She’s over doing it. Over stylized in manner. But that choice works just fine for this concept and is in direct contrast to Fassbender. Oddly she’s wearing too much makeup, and the long fake hair is obtrusive. When, with her natural beauty and hair, they didn’t need all the paint and extensions.
The two lead characters shine. But the real star of this movie is the filmmaker. This is his toy. Soderbergh sets that Ocean’s Eleven charm and panache, improves on it and adds just the right amount of visual gimmicks. Of note is a lie detector sequence. Suspects are hooked up to a polygraph. Each is asked questions, some fluff, some incriminating. A query is given to one person, the frame is switched and the next in line answers it. It’s a nifty gimmick that breaks up the narrative just enough. In between the shots of nervous participants are closeups of a bright orange-red jagged line that charts the truths and lies on a monitor. It’s a crafty passage. Simple but eye-catching. More memorable than some of the explosions. The mark of a gifted filmmaker.
