The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Raised From the Sixties

I always remembered the TV series The Man From U.N.C.L.E. being in black and white.  Apparently that was just because we had a black-and-white television set at the time.  Well now, it’s the wonderful world of color.

Guy Ritchie’s signature style works well in the fashionable 1960s European haunts in his film The Man From U.N.C.L.E.  It’s snazzy, it’s sharp, it’s brisk.  Still clever, still violent.  And surprisingly good, so long as you accept the genre — which is what, you may ask.  It’s not “tongue in cheek” espionage like the original Casino Royale.  It’s not Americanized tongue in cheek like the original TV series that was for adults but American adults so politically childlike.  It’s rather as if Guy Ritchie and Lionel Wigram couldn’t quite make up their minds whether to do a comedy or an espionage thriller.  They’re leaning quite heavily toward comedy, except when the implied violence goes too far… I mean, sure, they blew up Dr. Watson in the first Sherlock Holmes film in Ritchie’s franchise (and the good doctor should have been dead), so we can see how little Ritchie cares about realism.

Nevertheless, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (in case you’ve forgotten, or never knew, United Network Command for Law and Enforcement) was a lot of fun.  But it’s flawed, and although I’d like to see the franchise with the nuclear acting family continue, some pondering is in order for Ritchie & Wigram.  For now, let’s break this down:

Musically:  From the moment the music started I knew I wanted the soundtrack.

Visuals:  Oliver Scholl's production design and John Mathieson's cinematography are on the mark.  Their visions are in accord, presenting a film fine-tuned to seduce our senses.  We are fooled into believing it all works together.

As to the Story:  Screenplay by Guy Ritchie and Lionel Wigram was fast-moving entertainment.  What does fast-moving mean?  Don’t think.  John Kennedy is president, the Cuban Missile Crisis is past, the Berlin Wall is up and East Germans are shooting their own people who try to get over said Wall.  American agent Napoleon Solo’s backstory seems to be more like Alexander Mundy, the thief turned spy in “It Takes A Thief,” yet another 1960s television program.  But I digress.  Solo is trying to get a cute East German girl mechanic over the Berlin Wall to help the U.S. recapture their asset, the girl’s father, a Nazi scientist who has worked for the U.S. since the end of World War II.  On the other side, Russian agent Illya Kuryakin’s orders are to keep the girl in East Germany.  Guess who wins.  And guess who the best driver is:  the girl!   

Cavill as Napoleon Solo and Alicia Vikander as Gaby

Once in Western Europe, the antagonists are forced to work together for the same goal:  keeping a possible nuclear weapon out of the hands of neo Nazis.  Where in Western Europe?  L’Italia.  Perfetto for spectacular vistas and style.

Cavill as Solo and Debicki as Victoria

Things roll along nicely with betrayals, tantalizing sexual innuendo, shenanigans and silly plot twists.  It’s just when we get to the torture scene that it stumbles off track.  It’s not easy to balance serious subjects and funny style, and Ritchie and co-writer Wigram do well most of the time.  But when Solo is strapped into the comfy chair with the crazy Nazi war criminal, well, he wouldn’t have survived. 

This sequence would have worked on “Archer” because that actually is a cartoon.  This might have looked OK in storyboards or on the panel of a comic book, but once you put it into a colorful spy live-action dramedy, it veers into a different chromatic scale which could work but did not, even when crazy Nazi doctor said the photographic record of this torture would be in Kodachrome instead of black and white.  The whole bit broke the spell, if only for a little while.

The Cast:

• Henry Cavill as Napoleon Solo, charming, smooth without being oily, very cool, dapper. Having read the list of potential casting, I am here to say they picked the right guy.
• Armie Hammer as Illya Kuryakin grew a foot, and is not the Illya I recall from the television series, but I enjoyed him.  Clearly he’s the deadpan straight man and Cavill the wit, and they play off one another very nicely.

  

  Cavill as Solo and Hammer as Kuryakin

• Jared Harris with his strange American accent is comic book tough as CIA guy Sanders, said the same things into Solo’s ear as Misha Kuznetsov as Oleg, Harris’ counterpart in the Soviet Union, was saying to Kuryakin. More fun.
• Alicia Vikander as Gaby Teller, the East German mechanic who is sought by all as a means of finding her (former Nazi?) scientist father.  Vikander is a wonderful actor, playing for laughs here and achieving them.  She is dressed by men, of course, as is Elizabeth Debicki, in the paper doll cut-out style of the Sixties.  Vikander is Goldie Hawn, while Debicki is wearing Twiggy’s clothes fashioned for Monica Vitti.
• Elizabeth Debicki is not merely tall and young and lovely as Victoria, the sultry Italian mastermind.  She is elegantly evil, sinuous, sultry, and classily dangerous.  She is the essence of chic, just Napoleon Solo’s type.

  

  A match made in Mary Quant

• Luca Calvani is attractive as Victoria’s husband Alexander, an heir to fantastic wealth that cannot have been come by honestly, whom we meet for the first time as a playboy in a racecar.  Shades of Tony Stark, but not as clever.
• Sylvester Groth as the gross Uncle Rudi is appropriately creepy in a Marvel comic book way.
• A charming Hugh Grant sneaks in as Alexander Waverly — his spiffy line from the trailer loses its thrust in the film, which is clearly the director’s error, not Grant’s. 

Admit it, Hugh Grant is cuter than Leo  G. Carroll

Absurd events compound upon others, then all ends neatly making us hope the franchise continues as the end implies it will.  Because it was fun. 

And, as is standard with Ritchie films, it isn’t over just because the credits are rolling.  They are fantastic, sketched across a band of red, with 60s style dossiers, black and white snapshots, essentially some back story in pictures.  Terrifically stylish stuff.

Yes, more style than substance, but it is still summer, after all.

~ Molly Matera, signing off to watch some black-and-white Solo, Kuryakin, and Waverly on MeTV.

A Russian Classic Revamped: Anna Karenina

From the get-go and throughout, Anna Karenina was breathtaking. Bearing in mind that I read the novel only once several decades ago and am not a purist when it comes to Russian literature, I believe director Joe Wright and screenwriter Tom Stoppard’s conceit for telling this story reached the heart of the matter. Some political ramifications were doubtless lost (despite an early scene that looked as if it could have come from Dr. Zhivago), but it’s clearly the love story (and the fall-out therefrom) that counts in this version. Fittingly, the railroad plays a recurring role in the story of Anna Karenina, and it’s a marvelous vehicle — snow-covered, city to country, country to city, mixing people, gentry, serf, drones. It separates young lovers, then joins them, then separates again. Nothing’s more thrilling than a train ride through the movies.

The theatricality of the entire enterprise was a never-ending delight. I was hooked from my first sight of the stage, the bird’s eye view available from the upper levels of the theatre, characters looking down on the room they just left, and turning turning turning to walk out of the stage set into a field of whatever it is that Domhnall Gleeson’s Constantine Levin and his freed serfs scythe. Visually splendid are the actors as well, with the traffic-stopping Keira Knightley as Anna Karenina in stunning costumes by Jacqueline Durran. Costumes and settings and certainly Ms. Knightley’s jewelry did not adhere strictly to the time period any more than the ballroom dancing did, but who could care if beauty took a left turn for a joyride. The dancing in particular was fanciful and clever and quite possibly the way the lower classes might have imagined the upper classes to have moved in those overly ornate rooms, as if a luxurious birth afforded people grace and rhythm to do the complicated, flowing movements.

Jude Law as Karenin (c) 2012 Focus Features

Who hasn’t said, to themselves or aloud, that just a few years ago it would have been Jude Law as Vronsky, and wouldn’t that have been swell. Well, yes, but I’m happy to see him grow into the mature man he is, playing surprising roles for the joy of it. Jude Law does some of his very best work, subdued and thoughtful, as the properly repressed yet unalterably kind Alexei Karenin. Matthew Macfadyen put aside his often dour countenance to be a playful brother to Anna as the philandering Oblonsky. The wonderful Kelly Macdonald represented all women as betrayed wife Dolly. Her reaction to Anna’s behavior is yearning and admiring, in sharp contrast to the women of high society, exemplified by Shirley Henderson as an unknown woman at the opera, where everyone recognizes Anna. In contrast, Princess Myagkaya (an elegant Michelle Dockery) was empowered with the strength to be loyal.

Matthew Macfadyen as Oblonsky

Country fellow Levin loves the lovely Kitty (a sweet, sullen, then warm and tender Alicia Vikander), who is smitten with the dashing Vronsky (a seductive Aaron Taylor-Johnson), who dooms Anna Karenina as quickly as he falls for her. The lovely Ms. Knightley and delicious Mr. Taylor-Johnson are beautifully intertwined throughout the film.

Alicia Vikander as Kitty and Domhnall Gleeson as Levin

Emily Watson was morose as usual as Karenin’s friend, the Countess Ivanova. She represents her times well in its beginnings of forward-thinking actions by privileged classes, fighting for social equality for all except her own gender.

Mr. Wright’s direction is bold and exciting, aided by gorgeous cinematography by Seamus McGarvey, expert film editing by Melanie Oliver, an extraordinary production design by Sarah Greenwood that combined imagination and history, allowing the imagination to win. All of this was accompanied by a thrilling and moving score by Dario Marianelli.

As I left the theatre, I saw a poster for A Royal Affair and recognized Alicia Vikander who had just played the delightful Kitty. While that hadn’t been on my short list of films to see (isn’t winter swell, though, sending us indoors even in daylight to keep warm in the movie house?), but Ms. Vikander’s lustrous performance in Anna Karenina may yet move A Royal Affair up the list.

 If Anna Karenina is still playing on a big screen near you, go enjoy the visual splendor. If you’re a Russian literature purist, I can’t help you but to say it’s a fine film in and of itself. Read the book again later. Much later.

 ~ Molly Matera, signing off to read a good book….