Back in 2007, on the press trail stumping for The
Bourne Ultimatum, the third in the then-trilogy of espionage
actioners, Matt Damon appeared on The Daily Show. In the course
of the conversation, the actor said he and director Paul Greengrass, who also
helmed The Bourne Supremacy, joked that the next movie would
be called The Bourne Redundancy. It’s been nine years, with an
attempted franchise reboot sandwiched in the middle (2012’s lackluster
The Bourne Legacy), but with the simply titled
Jason Bourne, Damon and Greengrass finally delivered on that
promise, in spirit if not in name.
Jason Bourne isn’t terrible, it’s not a
travesty, and it’s frequently watchable. It is, however, completely unnecessary.
Overly long and repetitive—and packed with far too many meandering cat-and-mouse
scenes—the filmmakers run through the list of traits that work in the first
three movies and check them off a list. And the result is an empty shell that
resembles the earlier installments with none of the upside.
Greengrass’ signature shaky, verite-style camera work is
once again front and center. Instead of infusing even quiet moments with an
energy and urgency, it veers too often into visual incoherence. There’s much
intense, man-faced stalking down hallways and analysts gawking at computer
screens in blue-lit rooms as something happens literally on the other side of
the world. Coupled with a pulsing, throbbing score, this creates a sensation of
false momentum. Nothing particularly dramatic happens, but the sensory overload
tries to say otherwise. This strategy worked well in the past, but the diminished
returns are readily apparent in Jason Bourne.
A truly world-class cast of supporting players has little
more to do than scowl their way through a convoluted plot that boils down to a
spy version of, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” The
titular Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) has been living off the grid for the last ten
years, pit-fighting for money, keeping his head down, trying to cope with the
things he’s done. When former CIA analyst and occasional Bourne ally Nicky
Parsons (Julia Stiles) resurfaces with new intel on the amnesiac super agent’s
personal history, it kicks off a globe-trotting spider-web of deception,
deceit, and daddy issues.
Tommy Lee Jones plays the CIA director, making use of his
ever-glacially-shifting features to cast withering stares and talk on the phone.
Alicia Vikander’s Heather Lee is an ambitious young hot-shot cyber-security
specialist with her own shadowy end-game. Riz Ahmed’s Aaron Kalloor heads a
Google-esque tech behemoth. He’s made shady back-room deals with the devil in a
dark suit and now pays the price. And Vincent Cassel plays a CIA asset known
only as Asset, who has a personal score to settle with Bourne, not to mention
an additional, tacked-on-late-in-the-game connection.
There is, of course, yet another iteration of the CIA
program that created Jason Bourne to be exposed, but Jason
Bourne desperately wants to be relevant in the current world. But for
all the bluster and buzzwords, it says nothing. Just in case the metaphor isn’t
clear, the name Snowden is tossed around liberally, and there’s even a dickish,
proto-Julian Assange knockoff. The script from Paul Greengrass and Christopher
Rouse attempts to use the backdrop of increasing global political unrest and
public concerns about privacy as a platform. But they try to play both sides,
and instead of presenting a portrait of a complex problem, they paint an
indistinct portrait of nothing.
Not egregious, Jason Bourne delivers
precisely what’s expected, but it’s a pale imitation of its predecessors. The
action is muddy and uninspired; once the primary narrative thrust is handled,
there’s a massive chase scene stapled to the back end for shits and giggles; Matt
Damon barely says anything, though he has copious flashbacks and inarticulate motivations.
Jason Bourne is okay, nothing more. [Grade:
C]
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