Say U.N.C.L.E.

So it's been a while, but I've finally got a subject with which to make an addition to this poor excuse for a blog...

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (typing that out is rather annoying).  I'll admit up front that I do fondly remember the original series from my childhood so any opinion is accordingly biased.  I should also point out that I'm referring to the re-runs, not that I was around in the sixties when the series first ran.

Now, I do also have a soft spot for Mr Ritchie's work, especially the Holmes reboots.  In a lot of places, U.N.C.L.E. is similar in terms of being a slick, enjoyable update on a well-known franchise without too much tinkering to annoy die-hard fans or wreck the magic of the original source material.  The characters are entertaining and the plot is an undemanding spy-movie romp, similar to the warm, engaging Bond movies of old with a few smatterings of slightly cruder humour.

As you learn from the trailers, the plot throws together an American and Russian spy at the height of the Cold War, forced to overcome their animosity and prejudices to defeat a greater evil.  The relationship between the two lead characters is the centrepiece of the film and - as with the original series - is the source of the majority of the entertainment, both in terms of humour and slick action.

That said, the script and the plot don't really do the basic setup much justice and you're left wishing there was just a little more of the excellent verbal sparring between the two leads, or at least more of a differentiation in their styles and wit.  A couple of strong female characters are thrown into the mix to add fuel to the Molotov cocktail, but they don't really get enough opportunity to show off any real personality, beyond being ammunition for the boys to fight with/over.  Sometimes the humour does devolve into slapstick, but at other times it is genuinely inspired, including a high-brow argument over women's fashion.

Rather unfairly, it is actually Hugh Grant's supporting character who gets the best lines and he delivers them impeccably.  Given that he doesn't play a particularly large role in this movie (but don't fret - the setup for a sequel was as blunt as you'd expect), it just makes the lack of similar quantity and quality of wit for the other characters all the more disappointing.  The actors do try their best - Cavill does an excellent job of imitating Robert Vaughn's easy swagger without coming across as an irritating jock and Armie Hammer is a likable, if sadly under-exploited Kuryakin.  But the on-screen chemistry never really gets going and is broken up too often by set pieces labouring their love/hate relationship.  Indeed, the best scene is when all of the forced conflict is cast aside and the two find themselves on the same side.  Granted, this film needs to act as an introduction to their relationship as much as a good story in its own right, but you're left looking forward to the next installment where all of this narrative baggage is no longer needed, rather than enjoying this movie on its own merits.

All of these minor shortcomings are forgivable.  However, the main obstruction to proper enjoyment of what should be a straightforward, gritty buddy movie is Mr Ritchie's narrative device of choice for this season - the bleeding obvious flashback.  This is where a scene is played and then - just as it ends - is instantly replayed from a slightly different perspective, supposedly revealing a hitherto unseen twist in the plot.  Ritchie picks a similar piece of narrative bling in pretty much every movie he's made and uses it repeatedly.  But here - unlike the narrated plot reveals in Snatch or the entertaining flash-forwards in Sherlock - they are incredibly boring and detract from the flow of the movie.  They happen very frequently and the preceding scene is always shot in such a way that you know what's about to happen and dread the five minutes you're going to spend seeing the same scene all over again - only very slightly different.

The plot reveals themselves are also unforgivably lame, in that they are often mundane or you can tell exactly what is going to happen from the preceding set-piece scene - for example, a scene may contain a character issuing orders to someone off the edge of the screen, leading inexorably to the flashback scene where you'll be spoon-fed what was being ordered.  All in all it just comes across looking like the DP didn't plan the shots properly and missed half the action, rather than stylistic flair.  Far from increasing the suspense, these flashbacks wreck the rhythm of the movie, sap patience and feel like they were trying to squeeze more running time out of the plot than it could reasonably provide.

Also, annoyingly, some of the best action sequences are chopped up and delivered in super-slick, comic-book style frame-in-frame collages.  This simply gets in the way of you enjoying some wanton Hollywood action, all in the name of stylistic faff.

In the design business, this would be form dominating function.  It's just a tribute to the underlying story (not the plot) that an enjoyable movie can still emerge from underneath excessive creativity.