Here a spy, there a spy, everywhere a spy-spy. James Bond, Ethan Hunt (“Mission Impossible,”) Jason Bourne, and Napoleon Solo (“The Man From U.N.C.L.E.”)—all spies. What’s with the endless spy movies all the time? It’s just glorified snooping. And we obviously love it.
We love it so much, we picked this movie as a possible outstanding thing for people to go see in August. Today we are forced to eat our words.
What’s the word for when the movie trailer is so terrific, and you get all overcome with anticipation, and then the movie tanks? There should be a word for that.
Guy—Direct, Don’t Write
British director Guy Ritchie’s new spin on “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” ‘60s TV show is surprisingly dull, given that Ritchie is normally lots of fun. The problem is probably hubris.
When it comes to showbiz, after a while people often start thinking they can do everything—all aspects. Everyone’s job. Feel themselves to be a director, feel highly qualified to say what good or bad acting is, and think they can write.
Like Sylvester “Yo Adrian!” Stallone thought he could pull off light comedy, and Jim “Fire Marshall Bill” Carrey felt he could do heavy drama—Ritchie thought he could write comedy.
Granted he’s a very funny director, but directing is not writing, and the result is a lethargic, flaccid film without an iota of tension, which is why we’re calling it “spam.” Spam is also British; it’s a kind of low-quality canned ham, and since there’s so much hammy acting in “U.N.C.L.E., it needs to be called ”The Spam from U.N.C.L.E.”
Plod. Er, Plot
So there’s a half-French, half-Italian agent named Napoleon Solo—no wait he’s all-American (Henry Cavill), who is required by the CIA to team up with a Russian KGB agent Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer) to save the world.
