FILM REVIEW: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.

It seems like the more Guy Ritchie has ascended, in terms of notoriety, the further his films have drifted from the rhythmic, schizophrenic style that made Lock Stock and Snatch so appealing. The formula has remained more or less the same, but the films have suited the style less and less over the years.

Revolver and RocknRolla were both interesting, but lacked substance and the two Sherlock Holmes films, while entertaining, seemed completely unsure of themselves and the bizarre, cartoonish, steampunk world they were inexplicably set in.

Compared to all that, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. seems like prime real estate both for the signature Ritchie style and for the theme that’s emanated through all his films – male relationships. In the original show, much was made of tumultuous, but ultimately respectful partnership between CIA agent Napoleon Solo and KGB agent Illya Kuryakin. Kuryakin had originally been intended as a supporting character, as the program was really just a showcase for Robert Vaughn, but David McCallum’s portrayal of him was so deeply layered and intriguing that he grew into a co-star role, which was a huge deal at the time, given that the show was airing during the time it was set, one of the most turbulent periods of the Cold War.

With the benefit of hindsight, this new version takes the opportunity to explore that dynamic even further, whilst having no qualms about regarding the Cold War for what it really was, at heart: a battle of egos. As for style, the show was a campy, comedic affair full of implausible double-crossing and dialogue that often managed to be razor-sharp and farmyard corny all at once. Give that kind of thing to someone like Guy Ritchie (especially with his frequent editor James Herbert drafted in) and you have a match made in heaven.

Sure enough, this modern reimagining looks fantastic and feels remarkably fresh. In this version Solo is played by Henry Cavill, who breaks out the same smarmy assuredness he affected as Superman, the difference being that it actually makes sense here. Armie Hammer plays Kuryakin and he’s every bit as intriguing and quietly tragic as McCallum was in the original show, although his moments of repressed rage are somewhat oversaturated. It’s Alicia Vikander who steals the show though as Gaby Teller, the German mechanic seemingly dragged into a situation she’s not prepared for, but she doesn’t waste much time in proving that she most certainly is. Considering the weight of focus on male relationships, it seems like Ritchie has always had a hard time knowing what to do with the women in his films, but it’s not the case here. Both Teller and the sinister, calculating Victoria Vinciguerra (Elizabeth Debicki) bring far more to the table than any standard love interest or femme fatale.

The plot that’s holding it all together is actually pretty thin, though. A Nazi scientist (Teller’s estranged father) who was snapped up by the Americans during Operation Paperclip (look it up, feel weird about the world) goes missing and rumours start to circulate about a group of resurgent Nazis trying to construct a nuclear bomb, seemingly just because they can. Solo and Kuryakin become uneasy allies in order to foil the plot, things spiral onwards from there. Almost from the outset we’re just asked to accept that Nazis and Nazi sympathisers are building a bomb and kind of run with it, it’s flimsy, but it’s just about enough.

The far more interesting conflict is between Solo and Kuryakin. Both have different things to prove, to themselves and each other, but it never directly becomes any kind of ideological conflict (the politics behind the Cold War remain distinctly absent). Kuryakin is methodical, diligent and often at odds with himself whist Solo is arrogant and aloof, but determined to get the job done come what may. Their clashing approaches make the action scenes (which are far more reliant on sneaking than fisticuffs and gunplay) far more engaging than they would otherwise be, as the two constantly tread on each other’s toes and often find themselves cleaning up after near-fatal mistakes. One amusing moment comes when Kuryakin almost blows their cover after going into a bathroom to cool off and deciding that beating the bejesus out of 3 Italian yuppies is a better remedy than cold water or deep breathing.

It’s when things get more serious that issues begin to bubble up. The three lead characters are strongly written enough to make you invested but there are a few moments when the pace slows to a crawl and the tone takes a wild, jarring U-turn in favour of bewildering darkness. It wouldn’t be a problem, but a couple of times it comes right on the heels of humour, or even the other way around. In one scene we see one character brutally tortured, and have it presented to us as such only for the tables to turn and the torturer getting a taste of his own medicine. He gets tortured in exactly the same way, but it’s played for laughs. Happily those moments are rare and the overall feel of the film doesn’t suffer too heavily for them.

More happily, the film is perhaps the best Ritchie has ever made in terms of sheer spectacle. The production design is wonderful, it’s almost like watching a live-action episode of Archer at times (minus all the gross-out humour), ditto for the costumes and the score manages to honour the source material whilst also playing around with more abstract ideas. It ends up falling somewhere between John Barry and Jerry Goldsmith, in the best way possible. The editing and cinematography compliment each other sublimely, taking all the best elements from the Sherlock films and putting them to work in a far more fitting context. A chase sequence near the end which has the camera zooming in and out between wider and tighter aerial shots is a particular highlight. It also reminded me of the Smuggler’s Run games, to the point at which I was half expecting them all to start converging on a red flare.

What we’re left with is a tightly executed, rounded film. Ritchie has always been brilliant with his time management and it’s no different here, barely a second is wasted. The themes are clear, the implicit remains implicit and plenty of scope is left for a follow-up, which would not be unwelcome. The more emotionally heavy moments could have been handled better and it would have been nice to get a villain with more tangible motivation (we get it, Hollywood, Nazis were evil) but it’s really gratifying after all the years it’s spent in development hell to see this franchise finally get the reimagining it’s been clamouring for.