The 355: Bad-ass women to the rescue!

The 355 (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for strong violence, brief profanity and dramatic intensity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Not until very late in this film does a key character explain that “The 355” was the code name of a female spy — identity unknown — who was part of the Culper Ring, during the American Revolution.

 

Having completed their mission (or so they assum), the improvised espionage team —
from left, Graciela (Penélope Cruz), Mace (Jessica Chastain), Khadijah (Lupita Nyong'o)
and Marie (Diane Kruger) — report their results to Marks (John Douglas Thompson).

Which makes it a needlessly vague title for director Simon Kinberg’s fast-paced espionage thriller. (Honestly, I’m surprised Universal let the title slide; it’s utterly unmarketable.)

For starters, this story — by Kinberg, Theresa Beck and Bek Smith — concerns four (five?) “clandestine heroines who risk their lives in a fight for freedom against all odds.” (Ya gotta love studio publicity sheets.)

 

Kinberg’s globe-trotting romp is a well-crafted popcorn flick: an intriguing premise that’s short on logic, long on momentum, and highlighted by some inventively staged — and frequently ballsy — stunt work.

 

Events kick off in a palatial estate near Bogota, Colombia, where what appears to be a high-profile drug deal actually concerns a small external hard drive that contains a nasty program: one capable of wirelessly interfering with any computer — from navigational systems on a plane, to a phone in your pocket — anywhere in the world.

 

The deal goes awry, much to the dismay of The Unpleasant Man In Charge (Jason Flemyng). In the confusion, Luis (Edgar Ramírez) escapes with the drive.

 

Knowing it’s a hot commodity, Luis solicits bids from various international spy agencies, including the CIA; the case goes to impetuous agent Mason “Mace” Brown (Jessica Chastain) and her longtime partner/best friend, Nick Fowler (Sebastian Stan). The exchange, scheduled at a café in Paris, short-circuits when one of the valises is snatched by a bad-ass interloper (Diane Kruger).

 

Cue the first audacious scuffle/chase choreographed by stunt/fight coordinators James O’Donnell and James Embree, as Nick goes after Luis, and Mace follows the uninvited gate-crasher. The latter gets away, only to discover that she grabbed the valise with the CIA’s $3 million payoff.

 

On top of which, Luis’ valise — which should have contained the hard drive — has nothing but wadded-up paper: a double-cross. (The first of many, in this oblique story.)

The Man from U.N.C.L.E.: Vintage spyjinks

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for action violence, suggestive content and partial nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.14.15

Having so successfully re-imagined the sleuthing Sherlock Holmes and his late 19th century London surroundings, director Guy Ritchie has plunged forward half a century and change, in order to replicate the Cold War-era intrigue of classic 1960s spy flicks.

Having outwitted one set of enemies, Napoleon (Henry Cavill, left) and Illya (Armie Hammer)
cautiously check out the scene, in case other adversaries are waiting to ambush them.
Since this is an action-oriented spy thriller, you can bet the answer will be yes...

The engaging result isn’t merely set in the twisty, double-crossing world of Iron Curtain espionage; it even looks and feels like a movie made in the 1960s, thanks to the meticulous efforts of cinematographer John Mathieson, production designer Oliver Scholl, costume designer Joanna Johnston — you have to love how she dresses Alicia Vikander — and even composer Daniel Pemberton.

But let’s be clear: This film has absolutely nothing to do with The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Scripters Ritchie, Lionel Wigram, Jeff Kleeman and Davis C. Wilson may have borrowed a couple of iconic character names — Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin — but the whole elaborate U.N.C.L.E. mythos has been abandoned and/or ignored.

Ritchie’s film feels much more like a blend of early Sean Connery James Bond adventures and Michael Caine’s first two Harry Palmer spy thrillers (The Ipcress File and Funeral in Berlin). Mind you, that’s not a bad thing ... but if Ritchie & Co. wanted to mimic a 1960s spy film, why not invent their own characters?

Messing about with a beloved TV franchise seems a risky proposition either way: Longtime fans are guaranteed to be disappointed — or even irritated — while younger viewers won’t have the faintest idea who these guys are anyway. So ... what’s the point?

This cranky rant aside, Ritchie definitely has the formula down: the all-important blend of nimble spycraft, inventively staged fisticuffs, mildly audacious action sequences and just the right dollop of bone-dry humor (shaken, not stirred). The resulting tongue-in-cheek thriller is a bit lethargic at times — editor James Herbert could (and should) have tightened some of the many talking-heads interludes — but it’s otherwise a sleek and colorful blast from the cinematic past.

The action takes place in 1963, and begins as CIA agent Solo (Henry Cavill) is sent into East Berlin to extract Gaby Teller (Vikander), the long-estranged daughter of Dr. Udo Teller, once Hitler’s favorite rocket scientist. The hope is that Gaby will lead Napoleon to her father, whose wartime research into uranium enrichment has become highly dangerous, in an unstable world where the United States and Soviet Union are locked in an anxious, high-stakes game of chicken over nuclear arms supremacy.