Unbourne
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then the makers of the Bourne film franchise should be very flattered indeed, and the makers of Unknown might be forgiven their heartfelt, if inept, compliment.
If you trotted off to see Unknown in its opening weekend, against the advice of critics and your better angels, you should be forgiven, too. (If not: spoiler alert.) After all, Unknown offers intrigue, explosions, interesting scenes of a faraway city (Berlin), and the prettiest collection of middle-aged white people currently onscreen. We get to gaze at Liam Neeson, Diane Kruger, Aidan Quinn, and the remote, frosty beauty of January Jones, who imports her Betty Draper character from Mad Men almost in toto.
(But I do mean white. We see a Saudi prince from a distance, flanked by his phalanx of hotties, and the one black character, who gets only a couple of lines of dialogue before he's killed, is from "Africa" and named "Biko." I'll say no more.)
It's an action thriller only a Warner Bros. accountant could love. The scenes in which we learn that the supposed scientist played by Liam Neeson is really--gasp--an assassin, now stricken, after a blow to the head, with--gasp--amnesia, who--gasp--wants to do the right thing and is helped by a good woman to do so are almost painfully imitative. There's a car chase scene that basically stars the gearshift, but the chase has neither the inventiveness nor the staircases of the "tires feel a little splashy" scene in The Bourne Identity. When Frank Langella informs Neeson's character of his true, assassinish identity, and says he was his "best boy" but now must be killed, I longed for Chris Cooper to step in and take over. When Neeson's character discovers the stash of fake passports in the false bottom of his briefcase, I just felt embarrassed. An homage is one thing; a shameless rip-off is another.
Diane Kruger, once tapped for Helen of Troy, plays the Franka Potente character: the loner in trouble with a heart of gold, an alluring accent, and a penchant for bralessness. The difficulty is that Potente, with just a glance or gesture, can convey a three-dimensional character, a rocky past, and a sinuous mind at work, while Kruger is, well, pretty. Even her tragic backstory, when she blurts it, feels predictable and untrue, like the writers couldn't be bothered to offer her something fresh, and she couldn't conjure up any complexity of emotion for the lines.
Bruno Ganz (Wings of Desire) as a former Stasi member is lovely, though, and Eva Löbau does a great dead nurse. Olivier Schneider makes a scarily ruthless and relentless killer. Most of the interesting stuff happens in the minor roles.
A fresh moment involving one of the leads, however, is when we get to see January Jones explode.
Perhaps Mad Men could take a lesson.
If you trotted off to see Unknown in its opening weekend, against the advice of critics and your better angels, you should be forgiven, too. (If not: spoiler alert.) After all, Unknown offers intrigue, explosions, interesting scenes of a faraway city (Berlin), and the prettiest collection of middle-aged white people currently onscreen. We get to gaze at Liam Neeson, Diane Kruger, Aidan Quinn, and the remote, frosty beauty of January Jones, who imports her Betty Draper character from Mad Men almost in toto.
(But I do mean white. We see a Saudi prince from a distance, flanked by his phalanx of hotties, and the one black character, who gets only a couple of lines of dialogue before he's killed, is from "Africa" and named "Biko." I'll say no more.)
It's an action thriller only a Warner Bros. accountant could love. The scenes in which we learn that the supposed scientist played by Liam Neeson is really--gasp--an assassin, now stricken, after a blow to the head, with--gasp--amnesia, who--gasp--wants to do the right thing and is helped by a good woman to do so are almost painfully imitative. There's a car chase scene that basically stars the gearshift, but the chase has neither the inventiveness nor the staircases of the "tires feel a little splashy" scene in The Bourne Identity. When Frank Langella informs Neeson's character of his true, assassinish identity, and says he was his "best boy" but now must be killed, I longed for Chris Cooper to step in and take over. When Neeson's character discovers the stash of fake passports in the false bottom of his briefcase, I just felt embarrassed. An homage is one thing; a shameless rip-off is another.
Diane Kruger, once tapped for Helen of Troy, plays the Franka Potente character: the loner in trouble with a heart of gold, an alluring accent, and a penchant for bralessness. The difficulty is that Potente, with just a glance or gesture, can convey a three-dimensional character, a rocky past, and a sinuous mind at work, while Kruger is, well, pretty. Even her tragic backstory, when she blurts it, feels predictable and untrue, like the writers couldn't be bothered to offer her something fresh, and she couldn't conjure up any complexity of emotion for the lines.
Bruno Ganz (Wings of Desire) as a former Stasi member is lovely, though, and Eva Löbau does a great dead nurse. Olivier Schneider makes a scarily ruthless and relentless killer. Most of the interesting stuff happens in the minor roles.
A fresh moment involving one of the leads, however, is when we get to see January Jones explode.
Perhaps Mad Men could take a lesson.
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