While Tony Gilroy's rather fumbling The Bourne Legacy (2012) informed us that was 'never just one', the theatrical poster however failed to realise that there would be just one audiences would remember. That, of course, is Matt Damon's Jason Bourne, thanks to Doug Liman's enjoyable first entry and Paul Greengrass later taking the reigns and simultaneously lifting the franchise to a whole new level. Legacy, the Jeremy Renner vehicle, entertained fleetingly but ultimately suffered from its need to expand a universe which was built around Damon's presence and physicality and Greengrass' kinetic action, and so, in losing the series' two main draws, the film felt like another routine action thriller.
It seemed like Damon and Greengrass were done with the world of Treadstone and sleeper agents, but they are both back on board for the fourth entry, the somewhat unimaginatively-titled Jason Bourne. 9 years have passed since the original trilogy was wrapped up beautifully with The Bourne Ultimatum, with amnesiac henchman learning his true name (the less cool-sounding David Webb) and confronting the big bad seemingly behind the brutal training/brain-washing regime that morphed Bourne into the serial killer he cannot remember he was. So, the fourth (or fifth?) entry is the sequel that nobody, including fans, were really asking for, and this was reflected in its underwhelming box-office takings. You would think Damon and Greengrass were brought back into the fold because they had something fresh, but Jason Bourne sits comfortably in the formula that previously brought huge success.
It is so familiar in fact that I could swear I was watching the same scenes of wrinkled government operatives barking orders at underlings in a monitor-heavy CIA office while they watch Bourne vanish before their eyes, only with Tommy Lee Jones instead of David Strathairn and Alicia Vikander instead of Joan Allen. This time around, the super soldier is forced to leave his life of bare-knuckled fisticuffs in Greece when Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles), now working underground as a whistleblower, uncovers information from the CIA of Bourne's Treadstone recruitment and the death of his father. The hack alerts the head of CIA's cyber-ops division Heather Lee (Vikander) and CIA Director Robert Dewey (Jones), who hire an 'asset' (Vincent Cassel) to finally put Bourne to rest. However, Lee believes he could be brought back into the fold and put back to work.
The overbearing sense of familiarity with the story, locations and characters cast a dark cloud over what is essentially a reasonably entertaining and well-photographed slice of action cinema. Damon broods in front of a mirror, a saggy-faced suit becomes increasingly frustrated at Bourne's elusiveness, and a decent actor is wasted as a dead-eyed bad guy assassin (although he is given a history with his prey here). The feeling of repetitiveness really hangs a question mark over the world-buildings potential of the series, as well as just why Damon and Greengrass felt the need to return to a story that doesn't really drive Bourne's story forward. As a stand-alone work, this is a movie that excites with bruising action scenes and never bores throughout its 2 hour running-time, with Damon inevitably impressing. As an anticipated Bourne sequel, it's a passive shrug. The Bourne Redundancy would be a more appropriate title.
The focus of screenwriter Tony Kushner and director Steven Spielberg's Lincoln biopic is very specific, following the presidents administration for a short period of around two months in early 1865. It is a significant moment in Lincoln's term as president, not just for the passing of the 13th amendment to the United States constitution, that would free the thousands of black slaves, but for a change in Lincoln's opinion of the black population. It is also a significant period for American culture as a whole. Lincoln's image and reputation are wholly constructed from this short time. In the opening scene, Daniel Day-Lewis' Abraham Lincoln, discusses the black experience, and a previous speech he conducted, with two black soldiers on the front line in the civil war, still raging five years since it began. This opening is critical to the change that he experienced when he saw young black men fighting for the Union against the Confederate army. Before this face-to-face encounter, Lincoln had been involved in the Emancipation Proclamation (passed in 1863), but actually had plans to deport the blacks out of the United States, if slavery were abolished, as he felt that blacks and whites could not co-exist.
It is typical of all adaptations of Lincoln, "The Great Emancipator," is that the 16th president has been mythologised even by many history scholars since his death in April 1865. Spielberg is no stranger to revisionist historical cinema, of course (Schindler's List (1993) and Saving Private Ryan (1998) instantly come to mind), as the director tends to hold onto an idealised sense of sentimentality, a heightened range of emotions. It's often a cheap trick in Spielberg's cinema, but in Lincoln, the screenplay does hint at a man who is a little ambiguous on the subject of race. Day-Lewis, in a scene on a porch with his wife's ex-slave confidante, Elizabeth Keckley (Gloria Reuben), he plays Lincoln with an awkwardness. He asks her what he thinks will happen to the black population if slavery was abolished. Is he uncomfortable because of his views on deportation, or is he exploring the idea of absolute freedom? This is another scene that leads me to believe that Kushner and Spielberg were aware of the more dubious history concerning Lincoln's possible racism before 1865. That is not to say he wasn't against slavery, he was, but as a lawyer, it appears he approached it totally pragmatically.
Lincoln focuses it's attentions on the debates both in congress and behind the scenes within the seemingly cavernous rooms of the White House. The arguments and anecdotes about the meaning of freedom, and the race differences. The film attempts to show the bureaucratic and labyrinthine nature of policy change, let alone the grievances of changing the constitution written out in 1776. Tommy Lee Jones plays Thaddeus Stevens, a staunch opponent of slavery, and advocate of total freedom for blacks. As his story unfolds in congress, his secret personal life reveals itself almost revelatory in its conclusion. Small moments of comic vignette are provided by James Spader's Lobbyist W. N. Bilbo, and his crew, as they attempt to persuade democrats and republicans to vote for the passing of the 13th Amendment. Bilbo is seen in congress, sitting in the public seat mezzanine, providing character exposition, commentary and funny observations with his cohorts, like the two old men, Statler and Waldorf, in The Muppet Show. However, these escapades offer nothing more tangible than a little relief from the seriousness of the politics. Of course, with Spielberg attached to this project, the politics is also backed up with the emotional core of the Lincoln family. Sally Field plays the grief stricken wife, Mary, who is struggling after the death of a son.
Lincoln shows an ambiguous family, whose inner conflict juxtaposes the husband and the politician. In scenes with Mary, Lincoln is defensive, conflicting with the emotional stability of his wife. He has emotional detachments from his youngest son, whilst the visiting Robert Lincoln (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), battles with his father to join the civil war, a path that the president does not want for him. The American civil war was a brutal war, mechanised by the rise of the industrial revolution, leading to hundreds of thousands of dead and wounded. Whilst the scenes between son and wife are well scripted and acted, their presence seems secondary to what will, in part, contribute to awards heavy adulation of the Day-Lewis performance. Not only does he portray a president adored throughout history, but the script gives the actor a series of hyperbolic and anecdotal monologues. In practically all of Day-Lewis's performances, he has a moment in which he orates a lengthy, passionate speech, bringing stories to their emotional peek. In Lincoln, he almost explicitly has one of these fervent, impassioned moments, in every scene in which he is sitting. They are often humorous, but after a while, the obvious pleas for Oscar recognition, and fundamentally, to over emphasis the man as a great orator, and a man of complete honour and tolerance.
Undeniably, the film is sumptuously beautiful to look at. Cinematographer Janusz Kaminski conjures up a dark, candle-lit and fire-lit image when photographing inside. The minimal light, and contemporary decor, produces a palate of ochre's and earthy colours. When shooting outside, the grey of January winter bleeds from the sky into the skin of the characters, and the spacious clutter of buildings. The film juxtaposes these primitive images of the mid-ninetieth century surroundings with the very modern debates of morality and enslavement. There is a clear reason why Lincoln has been made in 2012. Lincoln's status as the emancipator of the black population, his image (still exploited for financial gain today in America), and his outstanding myth, were used during current president, Barack Obama's, presidential campaign in 2008. His myth is enduring (his Washington D.C. monument being the sight in which Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke publicly about the failure of the Emancipation Proclamation to truly free black people in America), but his (and Day-Lewis's) performance as a saviour and saint, would always win over a nation of people whose emotional attachment to their history can be easily manipulated and perpetuated through mass communication (newspaper, film, television, Internet), and fact and fiction merge to create an acceptable narrative.
Lincoln is an interesting film. The machinations of politics are a subject that should be relevant to most people in this period where nefarious politics are happening in plain sight, but whose unknown activities are most likely darker and fundamentally scarier than is possible to imagine. This Lincoln has very slight moments of enigma, his character is at times inscrutable, but the film doesn't offer insight into these confusions of intention or social outlook. However, when these ambiguities present themselves, they are soon reversed by ever-present adoration of the historical figure, this is perfectly illustrated in the closing moments. The film uncomfortably and unnecessarily attaches Lincoln's death scene at the end (which occurred two or three months after the time period the film is set). A tactic that opens the film into stomach churning celebration and lionising, where his famous speech lingers over the ghost on Lincoln, the generic emotional music of John Williams echoing into the credits. It's a shame the filmmakers perpetuated the myth instead of penetrating a character whose true identity is clouded in over a century of storytelling, and pseudo-religious worship. A missed opportunity perhaps, but Lincoln seems to have been made at this time to simply highlight to the world the social and political progress that has been made in America, from the passing of the 13th amendment, to the inaugaration of Barack Obama in 2008: Well done America, you're so enlightened (sic)!
Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) is desperate to get into the army and help his countrymen fight in World War II. The only problem is that he's short, skinny, and has a list of medical conditions longer than his arm. In his umpteenth attempt at enlisting, Dr. Erskine (Stanley Tucci) sees Rogers' passion and help enlist him in a research project to build a super soldier. Colonel Phillips (Tommy Lee Jones) doubts him, yet when Rogers dives on a loose de-activated grenade to save his group, he is convinced. Along with Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper), Erskine doses Rogers with a special serum that turns him into a muscled, near-invisible super soldier, and he becomes Captain America - at first a frontman to sell bonds, but when his friend needs to be rescued, he becomes a superhero. Meanwhile in Europe, psychotic Nazi Johann Schmidt (Hugo Weaving) is harnessing a power that may help him rule the world.
The Marvel films of late seem to fit into two categories - either very good, and passable. This, unfortunately, falls into the latter category. The passable Marvel films (X-Men: First Class (2011), The Incredible Hulk (2008)) have been relatively pedestrian yet have the uncanny ability to be irresistibly likeable and undeniably entertaining. Captain America was one I was expecting to be on the level of Iron Man (2008)and Thor (2011), both of which are very good. But it is overlong, has poorly developed supporting characters, and a one-dimensional bad-guy. But Chris Evans and the fact that this is a teasing final link into the film that we're all really waiting for, helps raise the film up a few notches.
I'll start with the bad. Firstly, the action scenes, compared to even the lesser Marvel films, don't really add up to that much. I mean, this is a superhero fighting Nazis, and we all love seeing a Nazi getting smashed - but the big and loud action scenes are surprisingly dull. There's nothing to compare to the Frost Giants fight in Thor, or the Circuit du Monaco attack in Iron Man 2 (2010), or seeing The Incredible Hulk getting angry. And Cap's whole superhero persona just isn't that good - he's just really hard and can throw a shield rather well. He can't fly, doesn't have a hammer of near-limitless abilities, and can't turn massive and green.
Sadly wasted are Tommy Lee Jones and Weaving. Given a role he can sleep-walk through, Jones just doesn't seem to be making the effort, and delivers his few comic lines with a can't-be-arsed look on his face. Weaving chews on his lines with relish and is near-faultless as Schmidt, who later becomes The Red Skull. It's just a shame that Schmidt is basically there to do no more than give Cap something to fight against. After Tom Hiddleston as Loki in Thor, who was if anything a lot more interesting than his blonde-haired brother, brought emotional torment and raging jealousy into his multi-dimensional character. Maybe I'm comparing it too much to the other Marvel films, but knowing that it's all building to The Avengers (due in 2012), it's difficult not to see it as one huge film.
But while Captain America the superhero may be a little full, Steve Rogers isn't. Seeing him transform from a skinny weakling who will get straight up after a beating to become a giant of a man over-awed by his new strength, is a great reason to finally root for the little guy. The nodding winks to the comic book nerds and the links to the other films provide lots to smile at, especially in Tony Stark's father Howard, who as well being an entertaining character, is played well by Dominic Cooper (though not the level of Robert Downey Jr.) who is an actor I've never really taken to in the past . And it's nice to finally have a strong love interest in Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) after the blandness of Natalie Portman in Thor. As well as the obvious attractiveness, Peggy is a character that can kick some arse as well. Overall, it's a worthy entry into the epic franchise, and a nice final character film before it all really kicks off.
It seemed like Damon and Greengrass were done with the world of Treadstone and sleeper agents, but they are both back on board for the fourth entry, the somewhat unimaginatively-titled Jason Bourne. 9 years have passed since the original trilogy was wrapped up beautifully with The Bourne Ultimatum, with amnesiac henchman learning his true name (the less cool-sounding David Webb) and confronting the big bad seemingly behind the brutal training/brain-washing regime that morphed Bourne into the serial killer he cannot remember he was. So, the fourth (or fifth?) entry is the sequel that nobody, including fans, were really asking for, and this was reflected in its underwhelming box-office takings. You would think Damon and Greengrass were brought back into the fold because they had something fresh, but Jason Bourne sits comfortably in the formula that previously brought huge success.
