I tried to explain the premise, as I understood it from
previews, of The Bourne Legacy to my
friend as we walked into the theatre to see the fourth movie in the Bourne trilogy. As far as I can tell, I
was successful.
Jason Bourne was never really a real person, or at least not
who he seemed to be, or Jason Bourne wasn’t his real name, and he had a lot of
identities when played by Matt Damon in the first three films and in his role
as a part of The Program, run by the U.S. government, or by corporations, or
rogues, so it’s okay that there’s a new actor (Jeremy Renner) now in the same
role, except it’s not the same role, but. . .
Wait, let me start over.
A few minutes into my viewing of the fun, action-packed,
pretty-to-look-at, sometimes cleverly-scripted, but just as often cliché-ridden
Bourne Legacy, I started to track
dialogue that explicitly acknowledged the story is convoluted, but who cares?
My notes include the line, “I really have no idea what’s going on,” in quotes –
but I have no recollection of who said it, when, or why.
“Is it possible?” one character asks. “I’ve kinda lost my perspective
on what’s possible,” another responds. Me, too! “How do you know I’m not
evaluating you?” one spy-like guy says. “I don’t. Maybe you are, maybe I don’t
care. Don’t you ever not care?” Perfect! The movie spends its first 30 minutes
setting up questions, while blatantly supplying no answers. We jump from Alaska
to somewhere in Africa, to Korea – quick scenes, multiple storylines, little
progress. Blood, drugs, mystery. What’s this? Don’t dwell – on to the next
scene, where a character, playing it straight, says, “You’re not saying much of
anything.” No kidding! I’m a third of the way through the movie before I care
enough to wonder about a plot point – but I’m not bored until the last third
when we’ve been told all there is to know.
Jason Renner plays a guy with a name (eventually), or at
least a name a couple of people call him, as well as a number. He’s at a
training camp where he’s put through rigorous physical and mental tests while
taking a blue and a green pill, occasionally returning to a pharmaceutical
research lab for monitoring and adjustments. Something happens (seriously, I’m
not sure what, and I’m pretty smart and attuned to details) and this program,
being run by some organizations and some powerful people (honestly…), spirals
into chaos. Pills must stop being taken, and people with knowledge must stop
being alive.
Renner’s character (I’m going to call him Aaron, because some
other people do at some points) goes on a quest to replenish his supply of
chemicals, because the effects they have on him are compelling. He’s so much
smarter and stronger than he was without them, and that’s good. He hooks up
with one of the research doctors and they take off on a trip to Manila, trying
to stay alive and smart and strong.
As the movie goes on, chase scene after chase scene and plot
twist upon plot twist, empathy remarkably grows in me as a viewer as I connect
to these two pretty characters who don’t know what’s going on either. Dr. Marta
(Rachel Weisz) asks Aaron why he needs so badly to maintain his advanced
chemical state, and he responds, “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
I liked the three previous Bourne movies. They didn’t shape my view of humanity or
international relations, but they entertained me with intrigue, action,
empathetic heroism, and exotic settings. I liked this movie, too, but it’s like
Bourne lite, and even while it gives
me what I’ve come to expect in a Bourne
flick, it also reveals a flaky underbelly.
To wit: what’s a Bourne
movie without a car or motorcycle chase on stairs in an urban setting? Legacy gives us that, but in such a way
that it somehow feels like, “Here’s your chase scene, I hope you like that we
made it 20 minutes long and devoid of any plot or character development!” It
gives us the vulnerable yet super-able hero and his reluctant yet capable
female sidekick, but then it highlights her need for superhero saving in
gratuitous, repetitive scenes. It introduces intriguing political and
philosophical situations – a questionably-still-human character chemically programmed
to eschew empathy or regret sent to chase down Aaron and the good doctor – but
doesn’t develop the premise in any way beyond the surface physical. He’s like a
robot, and we’re not as saddened or frightened by the institutional and
relational implications of this as we might be if we weren’t running up walls
and zipping through traffic for quite such a long time.
Fun (for the most part) to watch, impossible to follow, and
undeveloped in potential, The Bourne
Legacy is a shot of adrenaline with undefined lasting effects about which
I’m ultimately good-naturedly and, apparently, empathetically apathetic.
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