Reviews

Masterpiece Theater just aired a new production of the E.M. Forester novel. While this new take captures a little more of the class conflict inherent in the original novel and focuses on a few different scenes from the book, while cutting others, it loses all of the charm and humor of the novel, and the Merchant-Ivory film, as well as the thread of insufferable stuffiness of Lucy Honeychurch's life, from which George Emerson represents a happy escape.

In addition to losing the core theme of the novel (Lucy's escape from her stuffy upper class prison-like future existence with Cecil) the writer has inexplicably decided to tack on a sad ending. Who knows why. Perhaps it's an anti-Hollywood move: give the original light and witty story a heavy-handed treatment complete with downer ending in the hopes of making the entire production more highbrow. Lest we forget, this is *Masterpiece* Theater and this is high drama, darn it, so you'd better get used to the pedestrian pacing too.

And then there's the casting. None of the current cast members compare to the definitive 1985 version. Timothy Spall, as Mr. Emerson, has the right build but puts in a tepid performance. His real life son, Rafe, as George Emerson lacks the animal magnetism that Julian Sands had to woo Lucy away from her secure, but stuffy, upper class life. And Sophie Thompson's Miss Bartlett does more stammering than acting. But worst of all, Laurence Fox's Cecil Vyse looks like he would have fared better as George Emerson: while no one could ever equal Daniel Day-Lewis's up tight prig, Laurence Fox gives off a rough, unpredictable energy and seems more rebel than stuck up, elitist snob.

I've never been very fond of the name Masterpiece Theater, since there are truly so few masterpieces. The build-up created by the show's presumptive name usually dooms the resultant films to fall short. The production qualities of this made-for-TV version make this retread just as doomed to mediocrity from the get go: the Merchant-Ivory film is itself a true masterpiece, lovingly put together and with a feature film budget and sensibilities. Anything after that will surely be a let-down, and it is.

Breach is a concise drama based on a junior FBI agent Eric O'Neill's (Ryan Phillippe) role—the movie spans only two months—in catching notorious FBI traitor Robert Hanssen (Chris Cooper) in 2001. Hanssen sold secrets to the Soviets for 22 of his 25 years while he worked in intelligence within the FBI, but this version of his story (there are at least two books and a decent made-for-TV movie as well) shortens it,there was not much wrong with most of what I got; I just wanted m and this is both this movie's strength and weakness.

The movies begins with O'Neill being chosen seemingly out of the blue to work undercover watching Hanssen while posing as Hanssen's clerk. Phillippe is convincing as O'Neill, who is bright, ambitious, and very conscientious. O'Neill is also Catholic like Hanssen, who quickly notices this, and it becomes obvious that O'Neill is the kind of all-American, idealistic young man whom Hanssen will not be threatened by, making him a perfect choice to spy on Hanssen. O'Neill is not initially told the real reason for spying on Hanssen, only that Hanssen is a sexual deviant and that he has harassed female underlings. O'Neill naturally feels frustrated at being taken off of a career track pursuing actual foreign terrorists to pursue a middle-aged, mid-level manager sexual deviant within the Bureau. He does get a clue that there may be more to his assignment than meets the eye, however, when he is given a special pager that only his real boss, played by Laura Linney, can page him on and is told to note everything he can about Hanssen every day and send the reports to his real superiors. Something more serious than sexual harassment is clearly going on.

Hanssen, as ably played by Cooper in yet another troubled man role, is a mass of contradictions: he preaches to his underling about prayer and saying his rosary daily while Hanssen has been taping himself and his wife having sex and mailing the tapes to a friend. Of course, Hanssen's biggest contradiction is his espionage, Hanssen having sold huge amounts of valuable information to the Soviet Union for some $1.4 million in cash and diamonds, much of which he gave to strippers he befriended, though this is not part of this movie.

I like this kind of movie: the expose of the inner workings of a secret and powerful organization, the intrigue that a story like this carries with it, and the feeling of being on the inside of something very very exclusive. It's fun, in a perverse sort of way, to watch bad things happen to the smug inner circle of the intelligence world and feel morally superior to the traitor who is betraying his country as well as to the devoted officers who are betrayed by the traitor and by their own overmuch devotion to their own careers, which are now called into question by all the damage done by 22 years of a mole in their midst.

The movie is paced well. While not exactly speedy, the movie does move us along with all due speed towards the inevitable end of Hanssen's career (and his life as he knew it), and the elements of the movie--the lighting, editing, and casting--all hit their marks. It is set during the winter in Washington, DC and Northern Virginia, and everything, including the drab office interiors, are cold and gray. Hanssen even wears all black during his capture and arrest. On one hand, I liked the focused approach to the story-telling, but on another I wanted more background about the main characters: I left the movie wishing I had seen more of the story unfold so I could feel more the gravity of Hanssen's betrayal and his contradictions. Instead, because of the brevity of the story and the point of view taken to tell it, I merely heard about all the things that Hanssen had done in an interview O'Neill has with his boss. I was told rather than shown. I wanted a movie but got mostly snapshots or, more accurately, descriptions of snapshots. This is a very good movie, but given the gravity of the events and the depth of the deception, I wanted more than just good snapshots.

Seven out of ten.

While there are things I liked about this movie--it freely admits the main character is too old and weak to be chasing after killers and its subject matter is unique--the awful dialogue, the slipshod production values, and the plot holes take it down a few notches.

Brief summary: Eastwood plays a retired FBI profiler who has had a heart transplant and gets called out of retirement to solve the murder of the young woman whose heart he now uses. Eastwood is famous in the business for making films quickly and under budget and in this movie it shows. There were moments when I thought, 'surely there must have been more than one take of this?' Eastwood even stumbles over a phrase and they still used the take. According to the lore, Eastwood tells the actors to do a scene, assuring them they're just rehearsing or that he's merely adjusting the focus. The actors then do a relaxed take and then Eastwood says, 'okay, that was pretty good, let's just use that, next.' There is also a credit for a film score, but I don't recall hearing much if any background music, something that certainly could have added atmosphere, especially in a supposed thriller.

My other complaints with this movie also include its dialogue, especially the canned exchanges between Rodruigez and Eastwood. Rodruigez plays an LAPD cop who obviously resents Eastwood's investigating a murder even though Eastwood's character is no longer a cop and doesn't even have a Private Eye license. The forced animosity between the two is so stock and stilted it's almost comical. There are other stock characters and situations that give this movie the look and feel of one of his dated Dirty Harry movies. At one point, Eastwood's character fires a shotgun into a car that he has seen more than once at a particular murder scene, and this without any questioning or provocation. For a few moments he is Dirty Harry again, and it doesn't work.

And finally the plot holes. I would discuss these in more detail except that to do so would introduce spoilers. What I can say is that there are more than ample clues in the movie as to who the real killer is, enough so that I figured out the plot about one third the way through, and that's way too soon, especially considering that I don't usually figure this kind of thing out that quickly.

This movie is worth a late night watch on HBO or maybe even a video rental, but that's about it. It's not a film I would buy.

Stars: **

Warning: contains spoilers

I can't add much to what's already been said about this tight little drama that launched a genre. The plot is labyrinthine (I've seen this film over a dozen times and I still can't tell you why Miss O'Shaughnessy shoots Miles Archer, not that it really matters), but the atmosphere and the characters are without par. Who but Sidney Greenstreet or Peter Lorre could play their respective roles? This film is also famous for helping launch Humphrey Bogart's stardom, rescuing him from mediocre bit parts. His Spade is tough, funny, and insensitive. Like the novel it was taken from, this film adheres to the standard cliches and language of the film noir crime drama: anti-social hero, seedy characters, dangerous femme fatale, bleak setting (shot in black and white of course). This film is a must-see for any student of the art. No, it's not deep, but remember, it started out as a pulp crime novel.

[Contains Spoilers]

Code Unknown is yet another film in that great tradition of pointless slice-of-life (often French) films. Unless you're a big fan of films that act as if the viewer is an unwelcome intruder and are long on empty quiet moments and short on plot and traditional narrative, this film may not be for you. My general problem with slice-of-life films that have little or no plot is this: why bother? If you want to watch life why not watch your own? Plot and narrative exist for a reason--they make a world that is more interesting than everyday life. Slice-of-life films seem to combine the worst of real life and art. And people wonder why these movies aren't more popular.

In Code Unknown an event occurs on a busy Paris city street early on in the film and then we are left to watch what happens to the lives of those who participated in that event. The event occurs when a brooding and spoiled young man tosses a used bag on the lap of a woman beggar. A young African man stops him and demands that he apologize to her. Of course, the police are soon summoned and it is the African man who is arrested. The film jumps back and forth between the various lives of those connected to the event but with little or no explanation of what is going on. In one particularly maddening scene, a woman finds a written note on her front door. She is immediately concerned. What does the note say? We are never told, not even in incidental dialogue. She suspects that her neighbor across the hall has written the note, but when she confronts the old woman, the old woman denies it. Later, she tells her husband of the note but he insists she should mind her own business. So what was the note all about? We can only vaguely guess. I suppose to string together a list of unrelated events and offer little or no explanation of what is going on, especially when one is clearly needed, can be mistakenly called clever filmmaking. I call it lazy.

If you are bent on watching a slice-of-life movie that follows people around in their daily lives as they live and lie and make mistakes and act and react as their lives intersect with other strangers, then may I suggest Robert Altman's Short Cuts. It is an infinitely more pleasing and interesting film. In Altman's film you are allowed in on all conversations and inside details and you begin to care about characters and their lives. Nothing of the sort happens in Code Unknown. In the end of Code Unknown when the woman locks her husband out of their apartment by changing the code we feel no emotion. So what. We are just glad the movie is finally over. Save your time and don't bother with this film. See Short Cuts instead.