Bourne to Kick Ass - My thoughts on The Bourne Identity

A man assumed dead is found off the coast of Marseilles by a couple of men in a fishing trawler. In the course of nursing him to health, one of the men finds a bank account number in Zurich implanted in a device in his hip. The anonymous man in question has lost his memory and this bank account becomes his first clue to finding out who he is.

The man, as we later find out, is Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) and his search for his identity forms both the basic conflict and the driving force behind his actions. He is joined in this journey by Marie (Franka Potente) and the search takes them across Switzerland and France in her little red car. The opening of the film itself sets the tone for this action/adventure/mystery and Director Doug Liman keeps his audience on the edge of their seats through the 118 minute run time. The film, based loosely on a novel series by Robert Ludlum, has a tight screenplay. Writers Tony Gilroy and William Blake Herron balance a sensitive depiction of Bourne’s identity crisis with the fast paced action of the film deftly so that the final product has not one boring moment.

*TINY TRIVIA THING: The film's title does not appear anywhere in the DVD version (in keeping with the lost identity theme, perhaps?)

The Bourne Identity does not stick exclusively to the action genre. Even though it involves a brilliant car chase sequence, fugitives on the run from cops, an escape from a heavily guarded American consulate that literally puts the hero on a ledge and a climax where he battles deadly CIA assassins, the film does not shy away from tender moments. Take the beautiful circular tracking shot that almost seems to envelop Jason and Marie in a bubble of their own conversation outside Paris. Or the scene outside his house in Paris where Marie worries that he will forget her, to which he eloquently replies, “How could I forget about you? You're the only person I know.”

Liman tackles the question of Bourne’s identity with sensitivity. The film develops gradually till the park scene in Zurich. Here, after he has attacked two cops with their own gun, the film picks up speed as an amnesia-affected Bourne tries to piece together clues to his identity. Liman uses mirror images as a recurring motif through the first half to reiterate the question of his identity. In a spectacular scene where Bourne escapes the American consulate by scaling the building, the precariousness of his situation us amplified by the soft piano music that plays in the background. At the same time, this subtle music also brings attention to the ease with which Bourne pulls off the stunt. In fact, John Powell’s music is minimalist through the film and he often relies on ambient sounds to create the eerie jerkiness of a thriller.

Director of Photography Oliver Wood captures scene after scene with great dexterity. He makes unabashed use of canted frames and handheld style movements where necessary, to give you the feel of being a part of the action. True to any good thriller, he employs covert shot angles that give the constant feeling that Bourne is being watched. During the scenes between Jason and Marie, he often uses extreme close-ups to augment their intimacy.

Editor Saar Klein keeps the pace and flow of the film smooth with parallel editing and unobtrusive cuts. He infuses the film with gorgeous establishing shots of different cities across Northern Europe that the audience follows Bourne to. In one of the Treadstone office scenes, he even employs a daring jump cut on a simple yellow pin. The film ends on a surprising note, leaving us with unsolved mysteries for the sequel.

A highlight of the film is the car chase sequence through the streets of Paris. Quick and smooth inter-cutting, some great point of view shots and a snappy background score, together make the scene an absolute edge-of-the-seat success.

The film is a must watch in its genre. It is exciting and action-packed and yet manages to cater to a cerebral audience that does not want to leave its brains at home.


Director: Doug Liman
Screenplay: Tony Gilroy and W. Blake Herron
Based on a novel by: Robert Ludlum
Director of Photography: Oliver Wood
Editor: Saar Klein

A Peep(li) into New Age Neo-Realism

The Italian Neo-Realist Movement of the 1940’s was a product of necessity. De Sica, Verga, Rosellini, Visconti filmed the reality of their days under the tough times of the 2^nd World War. They told stories about the man on the streets because they were sick of the idealistic, upper class cinema of the “telefono bianco” type (the white telephone was a symbol of the Italian rich). They reused old film, picked up non-professional actors and shot on location in Italy. The result was the birth of classics like Umberto D., Shoeshine, Bicycle Thief, La Terra Trema and Rome, Open City.

The necessity has arisen again. P. Sainath, in his ‘India's Farm Suicides: a 12-Year Saga’ reminds us that 16,196 farmer suicides were registered in the year 2008. And this was the year of the loan waiver. In times like these, “Bollywood” has still been producing darling little films like I Hate Luv Stories, Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, Kites, Pyaar Impossible and the one that is never too old for jokes, Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham. The last one of course tries hard to present Kajol as an example of the urban poor. In Manish Malhotra clothes.

In times, exactly like these comes Anusha Rizvi’s Peepli Live. Now I would hardly pin Rizvi as the new De Sica…but for a first time director with not much movie-making experience, she does supremely well. Her actors have the natural style of non-professionals and the film has a raw, unfinished look that makes Italian Neo-Realist films seem real.

Peepli Live follows the story of Natthadas Manikpuri, an ordinary farmer who is at the bottom of the social pyramid, about to lose his ancestral farm land. A randomly suggested idea by a local neta turns things around for the whole village of Peepli as Nattha decides to commit suicide and inadvertently invites a carnival of media persons into his life. The film deftly kills two birds with one stone. On the one hand, it innocently nudges you to look at the lives of these farmers, on the other, it makes a biting critique of the media frenzy that occurs in this country over the smallest of things.

The script is often reminiscent of Brecht, with dialogues and imagery that present the contradictions of the situation most accurately. For instance, when Nattha’s brother tries to show him the bright side of the situation by showing him how much respect he could gain out of this, he simply asks what use the respect would be if he were dead. Similarly, the elaborate gag that ensues when Nattha sneaks out to take a crap, the witty lyrics of the Mehengai Daiin song as well as the ingenious premise of the “Laal Bahadur” reminded me extensively of Brecht. 

 

Without giving away too much on the plot, it is the technique behind Peepli Live that I want to discuss here. The regular camera work is mingled with shots from hand-held cameras that capture the point of view of Nattha and his family, isolated, even among crowds of news reporters. But Rizvi’s expertise is in the way she deals with images. Ultimately, when you leave the cinema hall, it is these images that you take away: Nattha and his family with hardly any place to sleep in, in the midst of TVs, domestic appliances and other useless gifts they will probably never use; the lone farmer who keeps digging relentlessly to sell his soil to brick makers; the small pool of water eventually found at the bottom of his pit; Nattha in a colored shirt on a bridegroom’s horse, riding away; empty plastic bottles and trash left after all the media OB-vans have left and the final images of Nattha which bring you out of the theater wondering what is in store for him next.