The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

As a fan of Snatch and Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, I am ever hopeful that Guy Ritchie will find his stride again and make something that matches those films in energy, style, fun, and, most importantly, quality. The trailers made it look like The Man from U.N.C.L.E. could be that film. The reality is… more complicated than that.

The film is based on a popular television show from the 1960s and, like the show, uses the early 60s as its setting. The premise of both the show and the movie is the unlikely team up between two formerly rival spies, one from the CIA and the other from the KGB, who end up part of a larger international organization, the titular U.N.C.L.E., tasked with tracking down and stopping rogue geopolitical threats. In the case of this movie, that means finding and stopping a criminal syndicate made, at least in part, of former Nazis who have acquired and wish to sell nuclear weapons. On the one hand, a cold war era “enemies turned allies” story has a lot of narrative potential. On the other hand, chasing down Nazis with stolen arms does not feel like the most unique concept for a villain.

One thing that the film absolutely nails is the feel of the piece. The Man from U.N.C.L.E. is just as slick and stylish as the marketing materials would have you believe. It has this ability to capture the essence of that cool aura we often ascribe to the 60s, evoking the most stylish elements of the Mod fashion scene: the American in his tailored suits, the Russian in his expertly paired sweaters and slacks, the East German in her mini skirts and big rimmed sun glasses a la Audrey Hepburn.

It isn’t just the fashion either. The action set pieces are able to carry that energy too. While the spectacle of things isn’t necessarily the most inventive, the way things are captured maintains that same stylish polish. For example, in the opening car chase there is a mastery of when to speed up and when to slow down action, for maximizing tension against payoff, as well as some rather clever use of both practical and CGI elements to allow rapid shifting of focus and perspective from car to car in what appears to be single, unbroken takes. The film is even able to apply a light dusting of humor to these scenes, enough to accentuate that sense of detached cool but not so much that it undercuts its emotional moments with too much bathos.

However, all that style is not in the service of much substance. As I hinted at when discussing the Nazi villains, plenty about the movie is creatively about as deep as a puddle. The story of the movie is as camp as it is simplistic. The two main spy characters are too perfect, too good at their jobs, despite being so young, to the point that it just isn’t believable. The American isn’t just a top spy, he was once a nearly uncatchable art thief. The Russian wasn’t just top of his class in KGB training, he’s the best spy in the entire service despite being one of the youngest. And so on, you get the idea. To match this is dialogue that isn’t so much realistic, or even helpfully communicative, as it is a series of perfectly timed quips.

Similarly, the script often allows characters to show up at exactly the right time, a hand in one pocket and looking maximally debonair, so that they can verbally spar even though they have no reason to be there and doing so is an obvious threat to their cover. The movie seems to routinely deny its own reality as long as it is in service of something that makes the main characters look particularly suave, slick, cool, extraordinarily competent, or just plain-old sexy. The actors are not lacking in charisma but their talents are harder to determine, especially the two male leads. Is it their fault that the overall direction of the movie appears to have been: stand here, be hot, look cool, and deliver the lines? As a result, the male leads aren’t so much characters, with understandable wants, needs, and motivations, but attractive meat puppets that waltz through events with slicked back hair and a devil may care attitude. This is especially true for the American, who doesn’t even get the Russian’s anger management issues as a sort of faux character trait.

There are certainly those that can enjoy style over substance and for those people this movie has a lot to offer. It is stylish as hell, evokes the coolest aspects of the 1960s in its visuals, and is masterful in its pacing and presentation of most of its action sequences. Its quippy dialogue is fun and funny, if you can ignore that it does little to establish interesting and believable characters or move the plot in a direction that is deeper and more inventive than essentially a two hour version of an episode of the television show. For all those people who can see the empty lot behind the film’s slick facade, however, the movie can feel more like a load of wasted potential than a wild two hour romp hunting Nazi arms dealers in East Germany and Italy. Which isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy myself, to a point, but as someone for whom style over substance can only go so far, this didn’t take me quite as far as I would have liked.

Would Recommend: If slick and cool are adjectives you love to hear when someone is describing a movie.

Would Not Recommend: If style over substance is a phrase you loathe to hear describe anything, especially a movie.