Black Bag

Leave it to Soderbergh to come at the spy thriller from a fresh angle.

This is his second film to hit American theaters already this year, after the inverted ghost story Presence, which was also written by David Koepp. In a better time for the theater business, that proximity would lend itself to an evening of Soderbergh at the cinema. What a wonderful idea! But alas, we're in the age of minuscule release windows, so the earlier film is already out of theaters.

In any case, Soderbergh and Koepp have retained many of the trappings of your traditional spy thriller. Well-dressed people with eagle eyes and square jaws attempting to find the traitor in their midst. A MacGuffin which could cause an international incident if it gets out. Dialog which is quick, sharp, loaded, and minimal. Deadpan gallows humor. Looks which say more than most people can convey in an entire afternoon.

But the movie isn't particularly interested in any of that. It's all just color to make us feel at home, to assure us this is the world of movie espionage to which we've become accustomed. Because what it really wants to play with are the characters, their relationships, and just how damn petty everyone is, including how they abuse the intelligence apparatus for their own personal reasons.

After an exciting oner following George (Michael Fassbender) as he winds through a crowded club before being informed by his boss that their top secret software has been leaked, the first major scene is a dinner he and his wife Kathryn (Cate Blanchett) host with their co-workers at the intelligence agency. It's a masterful set piece, kept dynamic despite being inherently stationary, with the small talk kept to a minimum as George covertly assesses everyone, including Kathryn. The characters are fleshed out brilliantly, as their interactions expose their roles at the agency, the history they share, and their close rapport, all the while exposing fissures in those relationships. Zoe (Naomie Harris) and James (Regé-Jean Page) have been dating for a bit, but there's some tension which prevents them from feeling comfortable with each other. Clarissa (Marisa Abela) is sleeping with Freddie (Tom Burke), despite their outwardly adversarial relationship, complete with accusations of infidelity which lead to a, shall we say, explosive end to the meal. To say nothing of how nakedly she's flirting with George throughout the dinner, despite his well-known devotion to his wife (who's right there, by the way).

These are messy, messy people, and that will not change as the stakes ratchet higher. Nothing they do is purely in service of some greater good. They're selfish, they're duplicitous, and they're careful but not perfect. Each is looking to take advantage of the situation to further their own goals. Political, personal, professional, it doesn't matter. The operational considerations are an afterthought. How else can you explain George commandeering a spy satellite to check in on Kathryn's trip to Zurich, which ends up allowing a key asset the agency has been monitoring to escape? An asset whose close associate just met with Kathryn under George's distrusting eye. Kathryn is bitter that she was passed over for a promotion in favor of Arthur (Pierce Brosnan), Zoe is frustrated with her professional trajectory, and Freddie just wants to be left to womanize in peace. Putting a fine point on all this is the fiery explosion caused by a geopolitical decision made in light of their personal conflicts. An explosion which we briefly see, but neither hear nor dwell on. Because while it would be the centerpiece which kicks us into the third act in a normal spy flick, it's barely of consequence to our main characters, safely thousands of miles away.

This is the kind of movie where the highest tension scenes are a few dinner table conversations, a desperate attempt to read lips before the clock counts down to zero, and two dudes talking in the middle of a lake while fishing. That's not faint praise: every aspect of the movie, from the script to the cinematography to the performances to the production design (and more), come together to imbue the quietest scenes with layers and intrigue and excitement. Even staging you've seen many times before are more lively, most notably a series of lie-detector tests between which we cross-cut and bridge dialog across shots, keeping your mind spinning, and demonstrating the precision of both the script and the editing.

To say too much more would risk harming the joy of first discovery, whose memory will keep you delighted on your inevitable rewatches. While the whodunit at its core is exciting, especially as it will keep you guessing, the execution is what makes this the best movie of the year so far. It's the style and the sex appeal and the charm and the dialog and off-beat score and the actors at the top of their game. It may not be a perfect movie, stumbling a few times down the stretch as it brings the various threads together. But it's the best spy thriller in years, and is unashamed to be a mid-budget movie with movie stars for adults. It's the perfect date night movie, although the same forces which threw Presence out of theaters so quickly are certain to come for Black Bag, too. Which is unfortunate: we're lucky enough to live in a time when Soderbergh still has his fastball (even if they're not always bangers), and I fear it's only in hindsight the industry will come to realize that.