The Man from U.N.C.L.E. opens with typical Guy Ritchie energy: as a chaotic cat-and-mouse chase unfolds through the streets of East Berlin,bullets and perfectly timed quips fly overhead. 1960s Soviet-occupied Germany is a kind of Disneyfied fantasy-land, with spooky shadows cast on cobbled roads and colourful, boxy cars. This cartoonish escape is one of many tightly edited set pieces which populate the film, doling out action, exposition, and humour with the clockwork precision we’ve come to expect from Ritchie.
As in the 1960s series it was based on, the film follows the adventures of secret agents Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill) and Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer), of the CIA and KGB respectively. The two bitter rivals are forced to join forces when a mysterious organisation bent on world domination use a kidnapped scientist to develop some form of super-nuke (details not important). Joining them is said scientist’s daughter, Gaby (Alicia Vikander), their only lead as they infiltrate the criminal ring. 1960s Italy, and the looming presence of the Cold War, form the backdrop to what is largely a love-hate bromance between the two agents, a relationship that develops around and during scenes of stealthy sleuthing and madcap violence. The characters are basically shallow set types – suave scoundrel, hot-headed Russian, and spunky tomboy – which suits the film’s altogether jaunty, light-hearted tone. Hammer as Kuryakin manages a subtler performance than necessary in this world of pastiche and surface, suggesting far more depth than Cavill’s walking, talking charisma-bot.
Things take a bit of a dip after the solid first act, and many of the early Italian scenes become a bit of a drag. Ritchie’s heavily formalistic style, while resulting in exquisite pay-offs, leads to some periods of dull downtime which feel like a chore for both the viewer and the director. You can almost hear the clock ticking on how much longer we have to spend watching cliched story beats fall flat before Guy Ritchie will reward us for our patience with some more of the good stuff. In particular, one scene of a drunken dance/accidental seduction makes minimal sense, clashing awkwardly with the character’s motivations. In fact, I initially assumed (given the atmosphere of Cold War paranoia) that it had to be part of some as-of-yet unrevealed scheme. However, it turned out to simply be a tonally off-kilter filler segment not really making sense in the grand scheme of things.
In contrast, the booming set pieces gush with inventiveness and imagination, offsetting the consistent action with surprising and often hilarious directorial quirks. Solo sits down for a lunch break, bib included, while Kuryakin continues a fight to the death in the background; dynamic split-screen effects chop up fight scenes into multiple perspectives, reminiscent of Ang Lee’s comic-book inspired Hulk film; an ex-Nazi torturer prefixes a dose of electroshock by showing his victim a photo album of sadism. All of this takes place in sumptuously lit sets, lacquered in a semi-authentic period look similar to Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes films.
The film is tremendously guilty of fetishising the period, featuring numerous indulgent tableau shots of clothing, cars, and furniture that leave the world feeling more like a series of pretty sets than anything close to reality. However, it is surprisingly nuanced (relatively speaking) in its revisionist approach to the political context of the tv show. While the villains are still cackling bastards and the protagonists are at worst good-hearted folks with a bit of baggage, the government agencies that employ them are both painted in a shady, opportunistic light. As the two agents overcome their differences to save the world, their bosses’ greater rivalry hangs overhead as an even greater threat, one that can’t be resolved as simply as breaking into a secret base and blowing up the bad guy. While this never gets so weighty as to distract from general kiss-kiss bang-bang entertainment, it adds a refreshing bit of thematic complexity to an otherwise solid men of mystery romp.
The Man From U.N.C.L.E. is out now in Cineworld, Parnell Street.
