The Bourne Ultimatum is a precision-tooled, lean, mean action machine, writes Michael Dwyer
SO STEEPED in paranoia that it recalls the chilling post- Watergate conspiracy thrillers of the 1970s, The Bourne Ultimatum offers further reasons to be fearful in our contemporary world of round-the-clock surveillance. During what is intended to be a private phone conversation, the very mention of a single word triggers an immediate hi-tech investigation and a determined plan to kill the man who dares to speak that CIA code name.
He is Simon Ross (Paddy Considine), security correspondent for the Guardian (a fictional character, although his editor physically resembles the Guardian's real-life editor, Alan Rusbridger). Ross has been writing about amnesiac agent Jason Bourne (Matt Damon), whom he describes as "square one, the first dirty little secret" in a clandestine CIA process of training ruthless killers and eliminating their memories.
From a building in Manhattan, a creepy CIA chief (David Strathairn) sets the massive surveillance operation in motion, watching every movement of the journalist's progress through Waterloo Station in London, where assassins are on his trail. Bourne is already inside the crowded station and in contact with Ross. The first of three riveting extended pursuits in the movie, this sequence gains in tension from its edgy handheld camerawork.
An action hero without super powers or gimmicky gadgetry, Bourne relies on his wits, fists and feet as he responds instinctively to multiple threats.
The globetrotting movie begins in Moscow, where Bourne is injured and looks haunted, still on the run but stubbornly intent on finally putting together the pieces of the jigsaw that is his past. His obstacle-strewn quest towards resolution takes him to Paris, Madrid and Turin, to Tangier for a thrilling race down narrow streets and across rooftops, and to New York for an exciting car chase.
Director Paul Greengrass makes highly effective use of the disparate locations, rooting the film in realism rarely found in contemporary thrillers. He worked mostly in TV drama and documentaries before attracting international recognition with the Irish production, Bloody Sunday (2002), where he fused his areas of expertise and redefined the docudrama form.
That led to Greengrass being signed to direct The Bourne Supremacy, the second film in the series based on Robert Ludlum's espionage novels. He then raised the docudrama to another level in United 93, set aboard one of the hijacked 9/11 planes and injecting a familiar story with dramatic urgency that proved gripping and terrifying.
A director whose work has been unflinchingly political since his first feature - Resurrected (1989), charting the travails of a British soldier in
the Falklands - Greengrass infuses The Bourne Ultimatum with topical references to such euphemistically described practices as rendition, experimental interrogation and behaviour modification. And he presents a deeply cynical view
of how surveillance systems purportedly for the protection of the public may be abused by forces of authority.
An adrenalin-pumping thriller that rarely allows Bourne or the viewer pause for breath, The Bourne Ultimatum is lean, tight and uncluttered. The action scenes are viscerally staged,
and the emphasis is firmly on exemplary stunt work with minimal recourse to CG effects. These sequences are edited with razor-sharp precision by Christopher Rouse and enhanced by John Powell's vital score (see CD Choice, page 14).
The dialogue is terse and crisp, delivered by a fine cast in which Damon is at his most intense and understated. Once regarded as unlikely an action hero as Richard Chamberlain was when he played Bourne in a 1988 TV production, Damon inhabits the role with robust conviction and terrific screen presence.
