[img]7|left|||no_popup[/img]What ever happened to the humble vial of truth serum? A few drops of the stuff and suspects were chirpier than a colony of birds on a telephone wire. It was the epitome of spy movie interrogation technology. The real drama, of course, came from the pitting of mind vs. mind, spy vs. counterspy, in tense, unaided confrontations across a table. Now we get neural imaging devices that scan a suspect’s brain in real-time to root out deception, which is convenient as it illustrates how much technology — both real and speculative — has infiltrated our spy movies. Like the dilemma facing the intelligence services, people have given way to machines.
In all fairness, “Salt” does play it old-school with a familiar game — who’s the traitor? — and keeps the spy-tech to a minimum. Instead, we get extended action scenes that leave few opportunities for exposition or character, which is a convenient way of keeping audiences in suspense until the next twist of the plot. This keeps screenwriter Kurt Wimmer off the hook for not writing very much; director Philip Noyce easily fills in the gaps with relentless fighting, chasing and blowing things up. Evelyn Salt is James Bond and Jason Bourne rolled into one highly attractive package, although we never get the impression her character has a particularly refined morality beyond the simplistic motivations Wimmer assigns her. Even Bond, in “Quantum of Solace,” comes to recognize and tone down his reckless, narrow-minded focus on getting the job done without regard for consequences. But Evelyn Salt? She is a force of nature, the very sort of action figure Peter Chung satirized in “Aeon Flux.”
The whole spectacle aims to work as a breathless thrill ride, like “District B13” or “The Italian Job.” But the level of brutality, glossed over by the lack of gushing blood and overt gore, eventually takes its toll on the undeniable adrenaline rush. How fun is it to consider, given the film’s solution, that many of the people who have been beaten up, slammed into walls, kicked, and punched, were just doing their jobs? After fussing with the issue of loyalty, one could ask if it really does make any difference whether Salt is a hero or villain given her methods. District B13 and The Italian Job, though filled with action and thrills, succeed in having personalities and scenarios invested with personal stakes. Neither would be so cruel as to include a scene in which a man is repeatedly shocked with a taser in order to stiffen his leg onto a car’s accelerator. When Salt works best, it is in the chase scenes filmed without overuse of quick cuts and closeups. The rest — the fisticuffs, the gunplay — is tinged with a ruthlessness marked by only the faintest traces of human vulnerability, which makes Evelyn Salt intriguing but distant.
Lest we forget, however, the fate of the geopolitical world as we know it is at stake. Wimmer brings back the Russians, not as cold warriors per se but remnants of the cold war who dream of the good old days of the Soviet empire. The nostalgia, of course, comes with a particular kind of spy movie megalomania, and once again we are given a film that excuses its violence as a justifiable means to an end — our entertainment. Is it completely disposable? Yes, and somewhat disheartening given an ending stolen from the “Bourne Supremacy.” But at least Sylvester Stallone, lamenting the extinction of the macho muscle man action hero, can take heart that costumed crusaders have been, at least temporarily, displaced by an uncostumed woman as tough as any Rambo.
Entertainment: * (out of two)
Craft: * (out of two)
Salt. Directed by Philip Noyce. Written by Kurt Wimmer. Starring Angelina Jolie, Live Schreiber and Chiwitel Ejiofor. 100 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for intense sequences of violence and action).
Frédérik Sisa is the Front Page Online's assistant editor as well as resident arts and entertainment critic. He may be reached at fsisa@thefrontpageonline.com.
