Atomic Blonde

Two-star trash with one five-star action scene. For an action/spy movie that is supposed to be action-packed and overflowing with information while constantly arousing our curiosity, Atomic Blonde is unusually lame. The fault lies in the film’s uneven rhythm, which is due to the large number of slowed-down scenes that do nothing to advance or enhance the plot, as the characters carry on shallow dialogue about truth, lies and politics, and shots in which Charlize Theron poses in a hotel room lit with blue and red neon (fans of Refn’s films will get their money’s worth). The female protagonist resembles a nicely dressed mannequin or robot that carries out issued instructions (and in the end, it doesn’t really matter who issues them) and occasionally restores her strength in an ice-water bath or with the aid of a shot of vodka (her version of “Martini, shaken, not stirred” is therefore “Stolichnaya on the rocks”). OK, so she’s a cold-as-ice killing machine, but couldn’t that have been conveyed more subtly? The few indications of her humanity and that she has any individuality at all ring hollow (her relationship with Delphine, the slain lover whose photo she burns at the beginning, probably just so the director could kick of the film with Bowie’s “Putting out the Fire”). The narrative is also slowed down by the unnecessary framing with an interrogation in London, visually reminiscent of the interrogation scene from Basic Instinct (there is no crossing of legs, however), which does not build any suspense, arouse curiosity or raise new questions. Toby Jones and John Goodman merely represent the viewers who are slower to understand and sometimes need a break and a summary of what we’ve heard so far. Furthermore, despite the retrospective narrative in the Berlin scenes, the film does not adhere to Lorraine’s perspective. We are also rather senselessly informed of Percival’s activities, so we know his true intentions before the other characters do and the film thus no longer manages to surprise us in this respect. The film’s best action scene is paradoxically the most stylistically restrained one, which doesn’t try to be cool by using slow motion or ’80s songs that work always and everywhere. Only during a several-minute, multi-level brawl on a staircase does the film finally become, at least for a moment, the uncompromising, brutal, badass action flick that the trailer promised. The quality of the stunts, choreography, camerawork and use of the mise-en-scéne (when things go south, even an electric stove comes in handy) makes Atomic Blonde an above-average bit of filmmaking. It is so much above-average that you probably won’t give much thought to the rawer, less stylised approach to the action (compared to the rest of the film) or the meagre contribution of a given sequence to the narrative. David Leitch thus has some great material if he ever needs to convince anyone that he knows how to direct an excellent action scene, but the whole narrative structure around it is so worn-out, dumb, sloppily put together and unbalanced that I would recommend showing up at the cinema about half an hour before the end of the movie. 50% (31/07/2017) (less) (more)