Guy Ritchie's The
Man From U.N.C.L.E is nothing if
not stylish. Indeed, it is so achingly sleek in its escapist
portrayal of Cold War Europe that you'd be forgiven for thinking that
the biggest threat to the West came in the form of an untailored
suit.
The Man From
U.N.C.L.E. is a reboot of the
hit 1960s American TV show which paired CIA agent Napoleon Solo with
KGB spy Illya Kuryakin to form an unlikely counter espionage duo, set
on fighting a sinister organisation with world dominance in its
sights. This big screen version offers much of the excitement and
camaraderie of the original but Guy Ritchie's film seems to focus a
little too much on the glitz and the glamour of international
espionage to let a well-paced and, importantly, meaningful plot
emerge from underneath the 1960s elegance.
Henry Cavill, of
Superman fame, takes on the role of Napoleon Solo, the wise-cracking
and self-assured CIA agent whom we first meet on the East side of the
Berlin Wall, attempting to smuggle out a German car mechanic called
Gaby (played by the wonderful Alicia Vikander). Gaby's father is a
scientist under the employ of Alexander and Victoria Vinciguerra, a
wealthy and Nazi-admiring couple who are intent on building their own
nuclear bomb. On the orders of Solo's superiors, Gaby and Solo team
up, together with the KGB's finest agent, Illya Kuryakin (Armie
Hammer) in order to defeat the Vinciguerras and prevent World War
Three.
Much of the enjoyment
to be gleaned from these proceedings lies with two main factors.
Firstly, every frame of the film looks as though it has been lifted
from the pages of Vogue. Much
of the action takes place in the sumptuous locations and hotels of
Rome and transports the audience into a bygone world which, although
beautiful, never truly existed. Secondly, the film has a nice vein of
humour running throughout, exemplified in the opening scene which may
well feature this year's most pedestrian, yet entertaining, car
chase.
Henry
Cavill wears a three-piece suit with supreme confidence and a hint of
arrogance, giving the impression that Napoleon Solo would be just as
at home on the catwalk as he would be breaking into a nuclear bunker.
Solo's quips and daredevil attitude play in amusing counterpoint to
Armie Hammer's more stiff and disciplined Soviet spy. Such
contrasting characters makes them an entertaining duo to watch as
they trade one-liners whilst saving the world, all the while keeping
an eye on where the other's gun is pointing.
Alicia Vikander's
character is equally as two-edged, quickly shedding her mechanics
overalls in favour of Swinging Sixties dresses, cocktails and
sunglasses, whilst holding her own opposite her male colleagues.
Solo's nemesis takes the fashionable form of Victoria Vinciguerra,
Italian high-society's answer to a fascist-sympathising Anna Wintour,
played here by Elizabeth Debicki.
Debicki clear revels in
the villainous role, dominating Cavill and taking great delight in
her apocalyptic plans. It is a cast as athletically dapper as it is
deadly and Ritchie takes great care in shooting the film with a
nostalgic sensibility. Every scene glows with cinematography aimed at
showing the world of U.N.C.L.E in
all its unashamed opulence.
It is, unfortunately,
this veneer of beautiful sophistication which defines and, in turn,
undermines the film. The film's plot never really seems to matter;
the stakes for which Solo is playing never rise above the
superficial. The action is rather uneven and, whilst there are a
number of thrilling set-pieces (including a visceral three-way chase
in the film's third act), the interplay between exposition and action
never really works.
The Man From
U.N.C.L.E seems to have been cut
in the workshops of Savile Row, favouring style over substance and
emphasising beauty over pacing. As a piece of escapist viewing, it
works and its slightly tongue-in-cheek tone is engaging. But in the
end, no number of beautiful dresses or crisp white shirts can hide
the superficiality of it all.
Clapperboard Rating: * * *
Clapperboard Rating: * * *
