By Francisco Silva -
Steven Soderbergh’s Black Bag, written by David Koepp, doesn’t waste time stating its premise. We have barely met our protagonists, and we are told the dramatic problem: British spy agent George (Michael Fassbender) receives information that his wife Kathryn (Cate Blanchett), also an agent in the same agency, is a traitor. It’s the most straightforward idea. Spy vs Spy, but it’s Husband vs Wife, from a director who knows style and two actors who, at their worst, look cooler than 90 per cent of us common mortals.
What’s great is how everyone commits to this idea from the first moment. After getting the assignment, George goes home to his wife, and the scene plays like any normal slice of married life with added thrill. His plans involve inviting two other couples from the office for a nice dinner soirée between adult co-workers and sussing everything out from there.
Part of the enjoyment in Black Bag comes from the dynamic between adults playing silly conspiracy games. Soderbergh and Koepp have been, unfairly, I think, compared to John Le Carré because this spy game lacks action set pieces and compensates for big drama twists and mind games. A good chunk of the film involves two dinner parties, where everyone’s relationship is laid bare for us all to see and discern who is telling the truth and who is playing the game. The other side is how the film remembers it’s still a genre film, and when it has to indulge, it does so with class and sobriety.
Fassbender and Blanchett exude so much chemistry I would gladly see this as a franchise where, once a year, we catch up with the stylish spy couple. Like Nick and Nora Charles from The Thin Man, with less comedy and alcohol abuse and more elegance. It’s formidable how Soderbergh and Koepp are so economical in the plot. There’s no deadweight in this; every scene serves a structural purpose in the grand scheme. There’s no time to develop and flesh out characters in between; Koepp masterfully does it in the same scenes where the plot moves. The result is the rest of the cast gets to shine and show their strength at the right time, notably Tom Burke as the wisecracking middle-aged spy in a (borderline) toxic relationship with the young intellectual but tempestuous Clarissa (Marisa Abela, here proving so much range it’s clear how underused she has been so far).
My only criticism of this film is how small it sometimes feels. For all the swinging pleasure and fun pace, it leaves you with the sense that it could’ve dwelt more on the implications of its relationships and the ambiguity of moral monogamy in the amoral setting of secrecy. It’s all fun and games until someone gets stabbed in the hand for having an affair. Because that’s what the title refers to – when a party in a couple cannot disclose information, they’ll just “It’s a black bag”, like a pleading the fifth that everyone uses to get away with keeping secrets from their significant other.
George and Kathryn’s plight takes the backseat in the second half so the plot can move on, but it gets perfectly resolved before the end. Satisfyingly so. Black Bag could’ve been a play as much as a film. It struts to a pleasing beat and envelops us in so much charm that I was getting jealous I’d never be that cool. Comparing it to Le Carré is a disservice to both writer and screenwriter – Le Carré revels in the paranoia it explores, and Black Bag makes fun of it. This is not a brainy spy thriller; it’s a slick relationship drama about the trust you need to keep monogamy alive. Le Carré would never.
Verdict: 3.5 out of 5
For the adults in the room who don’t mind a bit of smooth fun.
