Month: August 2007

Reform: The Next Step.

“So many concerns raised by the Abramoff scandals were enforcement issues. There is no change to that here.” Heartened by the comprehensive ethics bill passed by the House last week, observers nevertheless argue that more stringent enforcement mechanisms are needed to make congressional reform real. “Government watchdogs and ethics lawyers generally agree that the bill would shed new light on the Washington influence game but wonder how those who don’t play ball would be found and punished. Without an effective bureaucracy for managing the flow of new disclosures provided by the law, they say, the legislation won’t mean much.“

Basra to the Spoils.

“‘The British have basically been defeated in the south,’ a senior U.S. intelligence official said recently in Baghdad. They are abandoning their former headquarters at Basra Palace, where a recent official visitor from London described them as ‘surrounded like cowboys and Indians’ by militia fighters.” More bad news in Iraq: Once considered a comparative success story of sorts, the formerly British-held city of Basra now seems to be deteriorating as quickly as the rest of Iraq (except that, rather than experiencing sectarian conflict between Shiites and Sunnis, the more homogenous Basra is witnessing Shiite militias struggling amongst themselves.) “Much of Basra’s violence is ‘over who gets what cut from Iraq’s economic resources,’ a U.S. Army strategist in Iraq said.”

756*.

It’s official: Notorious slugger and obvious juicer Barry Bonds passes Hammerin’ Hank Aaron as the all-time home run leader. Ho-hum. To be honest, I still haven’t figured out how I come down on the Bonds steroid thing (partly because I am at best only a casual fan of baseball, and thus don’t really care all that much. As I said here, I’d rather watch basketball, soccer, or football on any given night than I would MLB, even before the league gave us Dubya. Take that, George Will.) But, regarding Bonds: On one hand, he seems like a jerk, and it’s painfully obvious he’s a user. On the other, the Baseball Hall of Fame is filled with unlikable people, many people in pro baseball are clearly using, a case could be made against other kinds of enhancements (contacts, for example), and I highly doubt I could hit 756 home runs even if I were ingesting three times the steroids Bonds did. So, it’s a wash.

Orders of the Phoenix.

In today’s trailer bin, a double dose of Joaquin: Cop Mark Wahlberg and nightclub impresario Phoenix try to live up to the expectations of their father (Robert Duvall) on either side of the law in the new trailer for We Own the Night, also with Eva Mendes. (It lost me about the time “Heart of Glass” stopped.) And the lives of Phoenix and wife Jennifer Connelly are overturned by a hit-and-run involving Mark Ruffalo in this look at Reservation Road, also with Mira Sorvino. (This looks better, but both of these trailers give away far too much.)

Bourne Slippy.


If you see him, say hello, he might be in Tangier. Or Paris, Madrid, London, New York, Moscow…uh, sir, we have Jason Bourne popping up all over the grid here. Shall I put it on One? As you have likely heard, Paul Greengrass’ The Bourne Ultimatum — which I caught last Friday — is a top-notch surveillance thriller that’s easily in keeping with the high standard of excellence put down by Doug Liman in Identity and particularly Greengrass himself in Supremacy. In fact, if there’s a downside to this smart, visceral action flick, which is as excellent as any one can hope for, it’s that it serves to remind us how amazing a Greengrass Watchmen might’ve been. After Bloody Sunday, United 93, and the Bournes, all films characterized by their in-your-face immediacy and gripping visual realism, the man seems incapable of making a bad movie. In any case, he brought the goods here — The Bourne Ultimatum doesn’t have much of a plot, but frankly it doesn’t need one. Like Yen in the suitcase, Jason Bourne is “the Modern Man, disconnected, frightened, paranoid for good reason.“…or at least the Modern Man as he’d aspire to be, if he could speak eight languages fluently, kick all kinds of ass with a library book, and always stay two steps ahead of the great Eye in the Sky.

As Ultimatum begins, we’re back in Moscow at the end of the last film: Bourne (Matt Damon) is on the run from Russian police (as a result of his bravura car chase with Karl Urban), he’s still walking with that limp (suffered from jumping off a bridge in…Amsterdam, was it?), and he’s still confused, amnesic, and obsessive about his origins as a lethal global assassin. So, when he begins experiencing flashbacks involving paunchy government bureaucrats — one of whom speaks with a well-known, recognizable croak — and an abusive interrogation involving hoods and waterboarding, Bourne, like a Frankenstein’s monster of the surveillance age, sets out anew on his mission to discover and confront his creators. (Uh, why doesn’t he just eliminate the middleman and head for Dick Cheney’s office?) In this quest for self-knowledge, Bourne is inadvertently aided by a crusading Guardian reporter (Paddy Considine, of In America and Hot Fuzz), who’s discovered that the super-secret government agency known as Treadstone may have been superseded by a new “sharp end of the stick,” Blackbriar. As you might imagine, this leak does not sit well with VIPs at Langley, so the CIA director (Scott Glenn, more craggy than ever) dispatches suits old (Joan Allen, returning as Pamela Landy) and new (David Strathairn, exuding intelligence in the Chris Cooper/Brian Cox role) to track down and eliminate the source, the reporter, Bourne, and anyone else who gets in their way. And thus the game is on…but who’s the cat and who’s the mouse here? This particular superspy wasn’t Bourne yesterday.

The rest of the film involves Bourne on the run, engaging and evading his would-be captors as much as possible in various scenic vistas around the globe. Yes, you could argue that we’ve seen this all before in the first two films — the CIA suits chattering away in vaguely menacing organizational jargon, the occasional hand-to-hand fisticuffs, the crunchy car carnage — Ultimatum definitely follows a template: Edgar Ramirez shows up in the Clive Owen/Karl Urban role, and Julia Stiles is back as Julia Stiles (and, I’m happy to say, does her best work of the series.) Or one might quibble that Bourne is a bit overpowered — even notwithstanding his superior reflexes, astounding peripheral vision, and brilliant gamesmanship, Bourne’s most powerful weapon might be his ability to induce convenient pangs of conscience among his adversaries at just the right time. But, the play’s the thing, and Greengrass succeeds in making Ultimatum an almost completely immersive experience regardless. Shadowy conversations are filmed from behind the shoulder, drawing attention to furtive eyes and pained grimaces. Observation cameras trace dangerous lines of sight across chaotic crowds, relentlessly seeking out their suspect. And, when the action breaks out…hoo boy. (I think I might’ve preferred the car chase in Supremacy to the very good one here, but there’s a fight in Morocco at one point that is a flat-out doozy.) By the final shot, which not brings the story full circle but recalls a haunting image of Franka Potente’s Marie from II and III, it’s clear that Greengrass is firing on all cylinders right now. I was already impressed with him, but Bourne further suggests that Greengrass is among the very best directors working today — Let’s hope he shares with us more surveillance intel in very short order.

Save the Aisle Seats.

As seen on AICN, thousands of vintage movie reviews from episodes of the Siskel & Ebert Show (and, ok, the Ebert & Roeper Show) are now available online for perusal. Some fascinating time capsules here, and it’s good to see the late Gene Siskel again. (Ebert lost a good deal of respect in this corner when he ultimately picked the pedestrian milquetoast Richard Roeper to fill Siskel’s seat. Somebody more combative, more knowledgable, or more interesting — heck, or somebody with decent taste in movies — would’ve been preferable.)

Democratic Disgrace.

“‘We’re hugely disappointed with the Democrats,’ said Caroline Fredrickson, legislative director for the American Civil Liberties Union. ‘The idea they let themselves be manipulated into accepting the White House proposal, certainly taking a great deal of it, when they’re in control — it’s mind-boggling.‘” Um, why did we put these jokers in office again? Surely not to support such flagrantly unconstitutional intrusions as this. Folding completely to White House pressure, a Democratic Senate voted 60-28 and a Democratic House voted 227-183 to sanction Dubya’s illegal wiretapping procedures. ‘The bill would give the National Security Agency the right to collect such communications in the future without a warrant. But it goes further than that: It also would allow the monitoring, under certain conditions, of electronic communications between people on U.S. soil, including U.S. citizens, and people ‘reasonably believed to be outside the United States,’ without a court’s order or oversight.” The Dems’ fallback position? They included a six-month sunset provision in the bill, so they’ll get a chance to revisit and repeat their capitulation to the executive throne early next year. But can we expect any more leadership from the congressional Democrats then? Really, this is beyond disgraceful. “‘The day we start deferring to someone who’s not a member of this body…is a sad day for the U.S. Senate,’ Feingold said. ‘We make the policy — not the executive branch.’“

Act like a pup…

…and this is the treatment you should expect: Despite rolling over for Dubya on his formerly-illegal wiretaps, the Senate still put up a show of outrage after Karl Rove simply skips a Senate hearing on the persecuted prosecutors scandal. (Citing executive privilege once again, Dubya instead dispatched a lower-level flunkie, Scott Jennings, to the meet.) “The privilege claim can be challenged in court. But Specter has said the courts would be unlikely to resolve any challenge before Bush leaves office.“

WoW, here we go again.

Whoosh! That giant sucking sound you’ll hear in a few months is the free time, productivity, and normal sleep cycles of 9 million people around the world suddenly being consumed within the vortex of another ten-level grind…Blizzard announces Wrath of the Lich King, a forthcoming second expansion pack (a la Burning Crusades) to their popular and addictive MMORPG. [If you’re not a WoW player, just skip over the rest of this entry — it won’t make any sense.] Right now, my guild is done with Kara, has SSC essentially on farm, and is now plugging through the Eye (Void Reaver on farm, Al’ar recently down, Solarian and Kael’thas to come.) (As for my own character, I’m pretty well-geared these days — all of Tier 4, starting Tier 5 — and still reference EJ’s handy rogue spreadsheet whenever a possible upgrade falls.) So I expect we’ll be getting bored with Mt. Hyjal and the Black Temple at right around the time the new continent of Northrend drops. Well-played, Blizzard.