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Safe house: film review.
Swedish director Daniel Espinosa's action-thriller starring Denzel Washington and Ryan Reynolds is a two-hour cat-and-mouse game with a few brief breaks to catch its breath.
By Todd McCarthy
Todd McCarthy
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Safe House Ryan Reynolds - H 2012
Essentially a two-hour chase with a few brief breaks to catch its breath, Safe House is an elemental cat-and-mouse game elaborated to the point of diminishing returns. Terse and understated, this is a spy vs. spy tale designed to minimize talk and maximize action, not at all a bad thing in movies but over-worked to near-exhaustion here. Star names of Denzel Washington and Ryan Reynolds will assure a robust opening for this muscular winter attraction, the stripped-down simplicity of which should play particularly well overseas.
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David Guggenheim ‘s nuts-and-bolts screenplay is mainly about one thing: A renegade CIA agent has information some of the gang back in Washington, D.C. might not want out there, so it comes down to their relentlessness versus his resourcefulness. Such a premise can be enough if the filmmaker in charge is a master of suspenseful minutia, a born storyteller capable of elaborating any small situation into a captivating tale, a wizard with images and of stretching a yarn to just before the breaking point.
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Swedish director Daniel Espinosa ( Snabba Cash ) is not on that level–not yet, anyway–although the style he employs to follows the far-ranging action—something resembling a surveillance camera surreptitiously eavesdropping on movements and incidents not meant to be witnessed—is entirely apt for the subject at hand. Especially when the action is outdoors and on the street, the slightly stylized coverage is often managed from above, where a permanent camera might plausibly be positioned, a strategy that contributes a fresh layer of visual pungency.
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Having been off the grid, as they say, for a decade, veteran agent Tobin Frost (Washington) is considered “one of the most notorious traitors we’ve got,” according to CIA big shot Harlan Whitford ( Sam Shepard ); he “turned” years ago and has been selling damaging information ever since. When Tobin abruptly decides to turn himself in, he is remanded to the care of agency novice Matt Weston (Reynolds), who’s been languishing in Cape Town, South Africa, waiting for a plum assignment; he’s got one now.
Given his notoriety, Tobin’s got some tough and well-armed guys after him wherever he goes, perhaps especially now because he’s got a tiny file containing explosive info that he’s embedded under his skin. Be they terrorists, mercenaries or CIA ops, his pursuers force Tobin and Matt out of their safe house and keep gunning for them at regular intervals thereafter, which means very few minutes of Safe House ever go by with an exchange of fire or muscle power.
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Hovering distantly in the background is the contrast between Tobin’s worldly cynicism and Matt’s hitherto untested optimistic view of how life should operate. In the nasty world of ever-present assassins and the CIA, which complicates things further by sending two Langley operatives ( Vera Farmiga and Brenda Gleeson ) into the field after them, the naïve student has to catch up to reality but fast, which he does as the besieged men carefully make their way from the city to a township and, finally, to an isolated ranch for a final showdown.
With his charisma doing most of the work to envelop his character with the requisite alluring mystery, Washington nicely combines a world-weariness with a persistent alertness to the moment, the latter a constant requisite if Tobin is to survive yet another day. Reynolds does seem very green by comparison, and one can hardly blame him for wishing he could just get back together with his comely blond girlfriend ( Nora Arnezeder ) in Paris, but being thrown into some extremely intense mano a mano combat situations seems to be just the ticket to make a man out of him. Dramatically, the film hangs together well enough but the repetitive nature of the action and lack of stylistic shadings and nuance ultimately prove rather grinding.
The relatively unfamiliar Cape Town and vicinity locations add a measure of fresh visual interest, while Oliver Wood , who shot the first two Bourne installments, has worked with Espinosa to fashion an even more rough-and-ready style here, abetted in its grunginess by production designer Brigitte Broch.
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Movie Review
Smoldering Superagent Runs...and Keeps on Running
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By Manohla Dargis
- Feb. 9, 2012
At some point in the tense, tough, visceral action movie “Safe House” a side character describes a rogue superagent played by Denzel Washington as “the black Dorian Gray.” Now that’s a movie pitch in waiting. Mr. Washington, or rather the mystery man he plays, Tobin Frost, a former operative for the C.I.A., lets out a short self-aware laugh of a man who isn’t just fielding a compliment but also owning it fully. And why not? He looks good , and he knows it.
Mr. Washington turned 57 in December, but if he’s feeling any of the aches and pains of age, it doesn’t show. “Safe House,” a “Bourne”-esque story about the bad, bad things that agents sometimes do in the name of country and company, puts Mr. Washington through his action-flick paces. He runs, he punches, he runs, he punches and occasionally discharges a gun, either coldly (it’s just business) or with the slight look of disgust of a man cleaning off the bottom of his shoe. Tobin Frost — the name smacks of airport spy fiction — isn’t really the enigma the filmmakers would like you to believe, but Mr. Washington is so good at suggesting deep reserves of cool, moody mystery and smoldering feeling that he keeps you nicely guessing.
Did or didn’t Frost betray his country is the question that the credited screenwriter David Guggenheim and Daniel Espinosa, the young, up-and-coming Swedish director, put into nimble play almost as soon as “Safe House” gets going. And, after some low-key place setting in Cape Town, where Matt Weston (Ryan Reynolds), an untested C.I.A. agent, is watching over a company safe house, the movie takes off like a shot. Frost, having just snaked his way through the city, dodging a gun-toting, shooting horde, and setting citizens scrambling every which way, has slipped into the American Embassy and, after announcing his identity, been swept away by agents to the safe house for debriefing.
Like a lot of contemporary action directors Mr. Espinosa tends to cut among several scenes, switching not simply between two scenes but also upward of four. In lesser hands this kind of editing scheme can devolve into visual and narrative chaos, as the filmmaker whiplashes from one location to another, sometimes for no apparent reason. Working with the editor Richard Pearson, whose credits include “The Bourne Supremacy,” Mr. Espinosa maintains a visually coherent, narratively rational sense of time and space no matter how fast the story shifts about, which it does with increasing speed when that same heavily armed horde that had been chasing Frost breaches the safe house, slaughtering most of the American operatives and sending Frost and Weston running.
Although the writers try to pump up the story and give it some “Bourne”-like layering, the story ebbs into more familiar cynicism rather than building toward political complexity. “Safe House” is essentially and very effectively a rollicking smash-and-crash chase movie that happens to be surprisingly well acted. Mr. Washington, it almost goes without saying, is its anchor; when he’s on screen everything seems to matter more, so much so that a prequel seems inevitable. How Frost became the man that he did is one of the mysteries, as is how well Weston and the actor playing him will rise to the occasion. Mr. Reynolds, whose curiously unsettled career is its own puzzle, rises here to meet Mr. Washington’s challenge, investing Weston with a slow-building, believable vulnerability.
Mr. Espinosa will rightly receive a lot of attention for his action scenes, which oscillate between heavily populated sequences and small-scale fights in tight, tight spaces, though it’s his work with the actors and his attention to beauty that puts “Safe House” a cut above the genre rest. The supporting cast, which includes Brendan Gleeson, Vera Farmiga, Rubén Blades and Robert Patrick, does its part too, as does the cinematographer Oliver Wood, who, it’s worth noting, also shot all three “Bourne” movies. The world, the filmmakers say again and again, is a terrible place, and yet, as you look at this film, with its beautifully bleached-out palette and somewhat coarse visual texture — the images look as if they had been lightly sandpapered — it’s hard not to be struck by its loveliness.
“Safe House” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). Action-cinema violence.
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Movie review: ‘Safe House’
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Is any place less safe than a safe house? In the entire lexicon of movie locations, is any setting more likely to be visited by chaos and destruction on a biblical scale? Not very likely.
So it’s no surprise that the Denzel Washington-starring “Safe House” is a take-no-prisoners action extravaganza that doesn’t stint on either bullets or brutal hand-to-hand combat. It also shows how much can be done with a business-as-usual CIA-thriller script when it’s bolstered by effective acting and expert direction.
That directing is courtesy of Swedish filmmaker and top-drawer mayhem manipulator Daniel Espinosa, who’s been one of the hottest new names in Hollywood since his last film, 2010’s “Snabba Cash” (“Easy Money”), unofficially made the high-echelon studio rounds though it has yet to show itself on American theatrical screens. Even without “Snabba” as a reference point (it’s been acquired by the Weinstein Co. with no firm release date set), it’s easy to see what action junkie executives saw in Espinosa.
Working with the top-flight team of cinematographer Oliver Wood and editor Richard Pearson, both of whom have “Bourne Supremacy” credits, Espinosa has given “Safe House” an unmistakably stylish and unsettling tone, characterized by probing camera work, quick and edgy cutting and a fine ability to keep audiences off-balance and wondering when they’ll get a chance to catch their next breath.
“Safe House” is grateful for all this pizazz because its David Guggenheim script is filled with standard-issue elements all pointing to the not exactly original notion that the intelligence community is a hotbed of corruption whose operatives eat betrayal for breakfast. Who knew?
For not the first time, locators like “Tuesday 1:53 p.m.” flash on the screen as people demand “Level 4 security” and insist to scurrying underlings that they “get a team in the situation room in five minutes.” Or else.
But as demonstrated by “The Help,” a very different kind of standard-issue project, good acting invariably ups the effectiveness of unprepossessing material. “Safe House” has a fine cast, including costar Ryan Reynolds and potent supporting players Vera Farmiga, Brendan Gleeson and Sam Shepard, but it is star Washington who sets the tone.
Though he is one of those actors who rarely sets a foot wrong no matter what the role, Washington has developed a special knack for dark-side portrayals that bring intensity and flair to films like “Training Day,” “American Gangster” and this one.
Here the actor plays the especially chilly Tobin Frost, a renegade CIA operative who has spent the last nine years in activities so traitorous the man is “wanted for espionage on four continents.” (Antarctica is presumably not on the list.)
With his ice-cold smile and ability to snap necks the way lesser men twist off beer caps, Frost was “the best of the best,” an expert manipulator who literally wrote the book on the techniques of interrogation.
But while he’s in Cape Town, South Africa, on some especially nefarious business, Frost falls afoul of a mysterious group that is so intent on doing him in that he turns himself over to a very much surprised U.S. Embassy. Officials hurriedly consult with the CIA top brass back in Langley, Va., and then deposit Frost in the local safe house for questioning.
Ordinarily the most boring, empty place in town, the location is under the charge of decidedly junior CIA employee Matt Weston (a quietly effective Reynolds), who lies to his attractive girlfriend about his occupation while pleading with his stateside superior (Gleeson) to bring more excitement into his life. He is about to get his wish.
For that safe house, wouldn’t you know it, does not exactly live up to its name. Faster than you can say “heavy weapons fire,” Weston and Frost find themselves on the streets of Cape Town, lucky to be alive.
Though “Safe House” may be too violent and nihilistic for everyone’s taste, it does have several crackerjack action sequences, including bone-ratting car chases and an especially atmospheric pursuit over the unstable rooftops of hardscrabble Langa Township on the outskirts of Cape Town.
Desperate to prove himself to CIA bigwigs (played by Farmiga and Shepard) back home, Weston struggles to keep control of the situation while his nominal captive, master of mind games that he is, attempts to get inside the younger man’s head. If only Weston can get Frost to yet another safe house, headquarters tells him, he can write his own ticket. If only ....
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Kenneth Turan is the former film critic for the Los Angeles Times.
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