The Man From U.N.C.L.E (12A.)
Directed by Guy Ritchie.
Starring Henry Cavill, Armie Hammer, Alicia Vikander, Elizabeth Debricki, Jared Harris and Hugh Grant. 116 mins
As a former Mr Madonna Guy Ritchie must be accustomed to being overshadowed. Still, it's got to be galling when the producer of your early films, Matthew Vaughan, then goes off and has the stellar directing career you seemed destined for. Two of Vaughan's biggest successes, X-Men: First Class and Kingsmen were both grounded in a pastiche of sixties spy romp glamour, and here Ritchie's trying to go down the same route with a film version of the popular Bond rip-off TV show of the period.
The programme is a decent subject for a big screen version because the title still has positive connotations but the only things most people remember about it is that it was an American and a Soviet spy, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin, working together during the Cold War. Man Of Steel Cavill does a fair approximation of Robert Vaughn's suave, unflustered, slightly oily charm, though it all seems like a lot more effort for him than it was for Vaughn. The result is more Bourne era Roger Moore Bond than Napoleon Solo. Meanwhile Lone Ranger Hammer's Illya Kuryakin is just a hulking Soviet superspy. This ain't no David McCallum role, but with his flat cap on he resembles a more loquacious version Arnie's character in Red Heat, dressed up in one of Ritchie's country squire outfits. The pick of the cast is Alicia Vikander as the girl who runs rings round the boys.
The film is bright and light and fast and fun, but so busy trying to impress us with how bright and light and fast and fun and so very very Sixties it is that it largely overlooks the point of itself. Despite what his many detractors think, Ritchie clearly does have skill and imagination but he applies it all so randomly and thoughtlessly. For example a major action sequence is staged as something that Solo watches through the mirror of a truck as he casually enjoys a snack. It's a really bold and risky choice – it gives the audience something fresh and unexpected but it also undercuts the value of the action, and the action is a major selling point for this kind of film. And the film tries these kinds of tricks repeatedly. When the script calls for a major battle sequence mobilizing lots of soldiers, it is tossed away in a brief montage of split screen shots. Which may simply be a way to disguise not having the budget to shoot it properly but it suggests to the audience that there is nothing at stake here and nothing to invest in.
The music choices are just as frantic. There is some great music here, often chosen to counterpoint the action but there are moments when it just doesn't work, especially when composer Daniel Pemberton supplies him with spaghetti western parodies.
He also has substance abuse issues. This is supposed to be light, playful stuff but at one point we are introduced to a villain who gets to give us a lengthy speech about his childhood and how he became a master of torture and that human beings are motivated by two things – pain and fear. He then says that history then gave a great opportunity to perfect his skills, a point which is then emphasized with a montage from the Second World War including shots from concentration camp. It is quite staggeringly inappropriate and all adds to this sense of never knowing quite where you are with the film, or ultimately, if you are anywhere at all.
The Man From U.N.C.L.E (12A.)
Directed by Guy Ritchie.
Starring Henry Cavill, Armie Hammer, Alicia Vikander, Elizabeth Debricki, Jared Harris and Hugh Grant. 116 mins
As a former Mr Madonna Guy Ritchie must be accustomed to being overshadowed. Still, it's got to be galling when the producer of your early films, Matthew Vaughan, then goes off and has the stellar directing career you seemed destined for. Two of Vaughan's biggest successes, X-Men: First Class and Kingsmen were both grounded in a pastiche of sixties spy romp glamour, and here Ritchie's trying to go down the same route with a film version of the popular Bond rip-off TV show of the period.
The programme is a decent subject for a big screen version because the title still has positive connotations but the only things most people remember about it is that it was an American and a Soviet spy, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin, working together during the Cold War. Man Of Steel Cavill does a fair approximation of Robert Vaughn's suave, unflustered, slightly oily charm, though it all seems like a lot more effort for him than it was for Vaughn. The result is more Bourne era Roger Moore Bond than Napoleon Solo. Meanwhile Lone Ranger Hammer's Illya Kuryakin is just a hulking Soviet superspy. This ain't no David McCallum role, but with his flat cap on he resembles a more loquacious version Arnie's character in Red Heat, dressed up in one of Ritchie's country squire outfits. The pick of the cast is Alicia Vikander as the girl who runs rings round the boys.
The film is bright and light and fast and fun, but so busy trying to impress us with how bright and light and fast and fun and so very very Sixties it is that it largely overlooks the point of itself. Despite what his many detractors think, Ritchie clearly does have skill and imagination but he applies it all so randomly and thoughtlessly. For example a major action sequence is staged as something that Solo watches through the mirror of a truck as he casually enjoys a snack. It's a really bold and risky choice – it gives the audience something fresh and unexpected but it also undercuts the value of the action, and the action is a major selling point for this kind of film. And the film tries these kinds of tricks repeatedly. When the script calls for a major battle sequence mobilizing lots of soldiers, it is tossed away in a brief montage of split screen shots. Which may simply be a way to disguise not having the budget to shoot it properly but it suggests to the audience that there is nothing at stake here and nothing to invest in.
The music choices are just as frantic. There is some great music here, often chosen to counterpoint the action but there are moments when it just doesn't work, especially when composer Daniel Pemberton supplies him with spaghetti western parodies.
He also has substance abuse issues. This is supposed to be light, playful stuff but at one point we are introduced to a villain who gets to give us a lengthy speech about his childhood and how he became a master of torture and that human beings are motivated by two things – pain and fear. He then says that history then gave a great opportunity to perfect his skills, a point which is then emphasized with a montage from the Second World War including shots from concentration camp. It is quite staggeringly inappropriate and all adds to this sense of never knowing quite where you are with the film, or ultimately, if you are anywhere at all.
