Black Bag

 

Director Steven Soderbergh

Soderbergh behind the camera

Soderbergh on the set with Michael Fassbender

Soderbergh with screenwriter David Koepp

screenwriter David Koepp

musical composer David Holmes

BLACK BAG             B+                                                                                                             USA  (93 mi)  2025  d: Steven Soderbergh

Whatever you may say about the films of Steven Soderbergh, one thing you can count on is that they will be stylishly entertaining, in this case like being immersed in the middle of a John Le Carré spy novel.  The maker of SEX, LIES, AND VIDEOTAPE (1989), one of the most influential catalysts of the 1990’s independent film movement, leading to Out of Sight (1998), The Limey (1999), and Traffic (2000), which remain among Soderbergh’s best films, all made at the height of his creative peak, yet this feels more along the lines of Haywire (2011), moving invisibly through a world of espionage, double agents, government cover ups, and secret identities, where the one certainty is never trusting anyone.  Soderbergh indicated he wanted this film to feel like the espionage version of Mike Nichols’ Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966), but it doesn’t have that kind of verbal pyrotechnics, as it’s much too sublimated for that, avoiding the high-octane action sequences typical of spy thrillers, instead there’s a unique focus on the interior psychology of the characters, where it actually feels more like an Agatha Christie novel, a spy thriller that’s also an interpersonal relationship movie, with a terrific ensemble cast that continuously plays mind games with each other, where Soderbergh’s bag of tricks is in stark contrast to Tomas Alfredson’s much more somber and subdued Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011).  Given the state of the world at the moment, where lying and disinformation have become the new normal, with nations sabotaging and undermining their own people to prevent the truth from ever coming out, we are living by new rules of engagement, where we suddenly find ourselves mired in a labyrinthian sci-fi dystopia, where we may never see the light of day, as the odds are continually stacked against us, with Soderbergh having a little fun at our expense, poking holes in our perceived covers, twisting the knife in what was once conceived as an open democracy.  Nowadays all bets are off, with this film demonstrating just how convoluted and confusing it has become, with the power brokers dangling the strings, making us believe whatever the hell they want us to believe, closing off all avenues of the real truth, while wrapping it all up in a mirage of freedom and democracy.  Having written three of the director’s last four movies, including his minimalist ghost story PRESENCE (2024), released just two months ago, the ridiculously talented and successful screenwriter David Koepp has written more than thirty feature films, including a wide variety of genres, with U.S. box office receipts grossing over $2.6 billion, making him the fourth most successful American screenwriter of all time (Top Grossing Screenwriter at the Domestic Box Office), though evaluating who is “best” is another story (The 100 Best Screenwriters of All Time), consulting with actual spies to write this movie, which is simply immersed in the culture of keeping secrets, which extends into personal relationships, including marriage, where confidential things that are off-limits for discussion are kept in a “black bag.”  That’s the amusing premise for the film, with Soderbergh having fun subverting genre expectations, becoming a puzzle piece that turns into fun and games, where if you can lie about everything, then how do you tell the truth about anything?  Perhaps unintentionally, that’s the real dilemma of living in America at the moment, where it’s like living under the Russian KGB, as everything is filtered through a wall of authoritative threats and manipulated disinformation.  Lies and cover-ups, along with a blatantly racist disregard for even the barest trace of historical diversity, are the cultural cornerstones that have literally replaced truth and honesty in American politics, the exact opposite of the Watergate era of the 1970’s, which opened a new door of ethics reform along with journalistic integrity and transparency.          

Using chapter headings counting down the days, one by one, this moody, atmospheric film is driven by a remarkable soundtrack written by Irish musician David Holmes, who has written the music for dozens of films going back to Soderbergh’s Out of Sight working with the director on and off for decades, Black Bag 2025 Soundtrack | Black Bag - David Holmes ... YouTube (1:09).  The super-modern, stylish look of the film is captured by none other than the director as cinematographer, working under a lifelong pseudonym Peter Andrews, while also editing the film under the pseudonym Mary Ann Bernard, where the sterile rooms and office spaces of Britain’s National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC) are void of color or personality, much of it mimicking the sepia tones of David Fincher’s Se7en (1995), swamped by an uneasiness that persists throughout, like an underlying gloom that permeates through every character.  In a superbly constructed opening sequence filled with suspense, the camera follows British intelligence office George Woodhouse (Michael Fassbender) in a Scorsese-like, single-take opening shot through the underground walkways of an upscale, carefully guarded London nightclub, leading to a private VIP vaping room, with darkness saturating every frame, as his superior, Mr. Meacham (Gustaf Skarsgård), contends “There’s a stranger in our house,” ordering him to investigate a leak in the intelligence service, specifically the theft of a top secret cyberweapon code-named Severus, a biological weapon capable of killing thousands, where one of the five suspects who have access to it is his wife, Kathryn (Cate Blanchett), given one week to find the culprit before it activates.  Adding to the intrigue, Meacham is poisoned and killed by morning, made to look like a heart attack, with a covert murder operation suddenly infiltrating the picture, where clearly there is trouble in the ranks.  Something of a twisty cat and mouse tale, perhaps the oddest juxtaposition is an early scene of the Woodhouse’s hosting a dinner party inviting all the suspects to their swanky townhouse, including a smug intelligence analyst Freddie Smalls (Tom Burke) and his sharp and savvy girlfriend Clarrisa Dubose (Marisa Abela), a junior agent and cyber technology expert, also the ever-observant, in-house psychiatrist Dr. Zoe Vaughn (Naomie Harris) and her dapperly dressed, recently promoted, second-in-command boyfriend Col. James Stokes (Regé-Jean Page).  This social gathering with fellow spies allows George to secretly place a psychotropic drug in the curry, lowering their inhibitions, creating an opportunity to observe their reactions, as interactions among the group frequently spark subtle shifts in the mood, where a brief glance, a subtle change in tone, or a hesitant remark speaks volumes, enriching the overall fabric of the narrative.  This opportunity allows secrets to be revealed, most of a private nature, exposing cracks and infidelities in each relationship, where a culture trained to deceive simply makes cheating too easy, growing very testy with one another, often driven by their own personal ambitions, featuring stellar dialogue that is delivered at a crisp pace, almost like a screwball comedy, Black Bag Movie Clip - Nothing I Couldn't Handle (2025) YouTube (1:04), recalling the infamous dinner parties hosted by married couple Nick and Nora Charles, a romantically involved detective duo known for their witty banter in W.S. Van Dyke’s THE THIN MAN (1934), where the dinner invite was a glamorous way to flush out the decisive clues to solve a case.  Outing Freddie as a serial cheater, George meticulously details his predictable sexual promiscuity, a provocation that prompts Clarissa to furiously retaliate by stabbing him on his hand with a steak knife.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.  While it’s a brilliantly conceived scene, allowing deeply repressed emotions to suddenly erupt to the surface, it also sets the stage for what follows, exposing what has to be the ultimate in workplace romances with the potential for dire consequences, as we’re dealing with clandestine operations that rarely see the light of day, so the film literally toys with the possibilities, poking fun of the somber nature of the business, but also cleverly finding humor at every turn with witty insinuations and quick retorts.       

The sanctity of marriage is broken when George finds a theater ticket stub in his wife’s trash, contradicting her version of events, so he breaks into her office and learns she’s secretly traveling to Zurich without telling him, testing the loyalty to his wife or his country.  His response, completely reflective of their power dynamic, is one of the more ingeniously conceived, diabolically clever scenes of the film, requiring the expertise of Clarissa to redirect a spy satellite while deceiving the agency’s satellite video screens, watched like a hawk by the man in charge, a silver-haired Pierce Brosnan (a playful take on his late 90’s version of 007 himself!) as Arthur Steiglitz, going offscreen for a mere minute or so to allow George to spy on his wife in Zurich meeting someone of interest, a hilarious example of the extent marital partners are willing to go to find out what they want about the other, Black Bag Movie Clip - It's the Only Way - video Dailymotion YouTube (45 seconds), where the wrinkle is a split-second glitch exposing their shenanigans, a subliminal moment and potentially disastrous occurrence that could expose his dirty tricks.  This marital relationship is at the heart of the picture, as it thrives on secrets and lies, yet relies upon trust, a kind of marriage that is unique to cinema, held together by a mutual understanding of the lies they live in, where the wheels of power are forever changing, as both are deliberate, smooth, rarely cracking a smile, where a certain frostiness and cold precision is required in their profession.  George is a cold and clinical character, robotic, seemingly inhuman, like an A.I. invention, never revealing an inner life, yet super intelligent, as his views are rarely challenged, while Kathryn is more socially amenable, a master of disguise moving about with an icy calmness, with a wardrobe right out of Todd Haynes’ 2015 Top Ten List #6 Carol, where her natural disposition tends to put people at ease, allowing her to more easily gain people’s trust, including her husband, but the open question is whether there’s been a breach in their marriage, and whether she’s undermined official state secrets, becoming that mole in their midst.  This see-saw affair of shifting perspectives is the engine that generates the understated power of the picture, where everyone’s a suspect, yet the more George investigates, the more all the clues lead to his wife, delving into moral complications, yet what’s a spy thriller without the spies spying on each other?  When George and Kathryn compare notes and suspect they’re being set up, using each against the other, George shrewdly conducts polygraphs tests that mix the personal with the professional, anything to make each suspect feel precariously offguard, yet his interview with Clarissa, with Abela stealing every scene she’s in, is drop dead hilarious, as she’s devised bizarre methods to beat the test, which truly impresses the usually unflappable George, who is supposedly unparalleled in the art of psychological manipulation, taking this into unfamiliar territory while adding a bit of spice to the mix, Black Bag Exclusive Movie Clip - Polygraph Tests (2025) YouTube (59 seconds).  This sequence is cleverly edited, moving rapidly between agents, merging the personalities of everyone involved, like a musical crescendo, leading to yet another classic dinner sequence designed to catch the culprit, with Kathryn remarking, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a traitor to dinner, at least knowingly,” Black Bag | Official Clip | Cate Blanchett, Michael Fassbender YouTube (1:06), a wonderful return to form for Soderbergh, whose cinematic sophistication really shines.  Something of a throwback to those paranoid conspiracy flicks of the 1970’s, deliciously entertaining at every turn, this is masterful filmmaking, immersing viewers in a sordid universe that we are typically excluded from, yet here we’re given a front row seat in what is easily one of Soderbergh’s best films in years.

Song to Song

Ryan Gosling and Rooney Mara on the set

 

Director Terrence Malick and Rooney Mara on the set

 

Director Terrence Malick and Natalie Portman on the set

 

Director Terrence Malick and Ryan Gosling on the set

 

Director Terrence Malick

 

SONG TO SONG            C              

USA  (129 mi)  2017  ‘Scope  d:  Terrence Malick                Official site

The woods had vanished; the earth was a waste of shadow.  No sound broke the silence of the wintry landscape.  No cock crowed; no smoke rose; no train moved.  A man without a self, I said.  A heavy body leaning on a gate.  A dead man.  With dispassionate despair, with entire disillusionment, I surveyed the dust dance; my life, my friends’ lives, and those fabulous presences, men with brooms, women writing, the willow tree by the river—clouds and phantoms made of dust too, of dust that changed, as clouds lose and gain and take gold or red and lose their summits and billow this way and that, mutable, vain.  I, carrying a notebook, making phrases, had recorded mere changes; a shadow.  I had been sedulous to take note of shadows.  How can I proceed now, I said, without a self, weightless and visionless, through a world weightless, without illusion?                       

—The Waves, by Virginia Woolf, 1931,  THE WAVES - Project Gutenberg Australia

Filmed back to back with Knight of Cups (2015), essentially the same film in a different context, arguably the least successful film over the course of his career, where, above all others, it has an air of pretension about it, showing no artistic growth, as it’s covering the exact same territory as his previous film, where too much of the same thing has dulled the senses in Malick films, continuing in a similar abstract, non-narrative stylization, where this is the only Malick film that actually felt painful to watch, as actors are constantly forced to spontaneously perform in front of the camera, to improvise and supposedly be interesting, yet it becomes excruciatingly painful to watch, as shooting without a script, it seems more like screen test shots, loose reflections of differing personalities captured before a camera, where they are playing out moods instead of developing characters.  Over the course of two hours, the professional limits of these actors are exposed, as their attempts at spontaneity become repetitive, where instead of a liberating experience, they feel more and more boxed in by their own human limitations, falling instead of flying, where it actually becomes uncomfortable to watch after a while, as they feebly resort to many of the same gestures and acting techniques over and over again.  While Malick continually resorts to a mosaic of impressionistic moments, finding beauty in the moment, where throughout the duration he is constantly changing the focus of attention, adding a stream-of-conscious narrative that is driven by fleeting images accompanied by haunting interior monologues that do form a more recognizable storyline, the truth is that our distanced unfamiliarity with the same characters and cinematic techniques do not grow or evolve over time, where this feels more like an exercise in futility, with viewers continually forced to beat their heads against a wall in protest.  Shot in Austin during the 2012 Austin City Limits Music Festival, there is a thread of indie music that plays throughout, along with cameos from rock icons Patti Smith, Iggy Pop, Johnny Rotten, and members of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, where the normally reclusive director conducted a Q & A interview along with actor Michael Fassbender hosted by resident director Richard Linklater following a screening just a few weeks ago at the SXSW Film Festival, Michael Fassbender & Terrence Malick talk about "Song To Song" at the SXSW (Austin, Texas) (31:38), and while nothing earthshaking is revealed, it is one of the few public interviews Malick has ever granted.   

This would have to be considered the Malick “Museum period,” as the director, through ace cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki in their fifth consecutive collaboration since The New World (2005), continually shoots extravagant, museum-like dwellings with glass floor-to-ceiling windows, looking completely immaculate, like super luxury accommodations featured in Architectural Digest magazine, set in beautiful locations with elaborate outdoor fountains or in this case, elegant infinity pools overlooking Lake Travis or the Colorado River, which both converge in Austin, where nothing is ever out of place, resembling an intoxicating, dreamlike image of unlimited wealth, where this is as far from a working class environment as one could find, inhabited by the so-called beautiful people who control the industry.  But instead of a scathing satire on Los Angeles and the Hollywood movie industry, consumed in artifice and superficiality, this is described as an experimental romantic drama filled with music, originally entitled Weightless from the Virginia Woolf passage, yet despite the title and the outdoor rock music setting, the film is not really about the music festival, though as Malick put it, “You can’t live in Austin and escape the music,” serving only as a backdrop for a larger story about the fleeting connectivity of our lives, shown through a series of random moments, as one character (Rooney Mara) puts it, “living moment to moment, song to song, kiss to kiss,” which may explain why so many different songs and locations are used in the film, where what’s shown onscreen are only brief fragments of a much larger picture that remains unseen, that each viewer must imagine for themselves, where perhaps a common theme heard throughout is the Delta blues song, “Rollin’ and Tumblin’,” Elmore James - Rollin' and Tumblin' - YouTube (2:27). 

Well, I rolled and I tumbled, cried the whole night long
Well, I woke up this mornin’, didn’t know right from wrong

Featuring a cavalcade of stars, including Michael Fassbender, Ryan Gosling, Natalie Portman, Rooney Mara, Cate Blanchett, Holly Hunter, and a strange appearance from Val Kilmer, where three women are Academy Award winners, the film doesn’t really have a story, and isn’t meant to, as there was never any guarantee any of the scenes would be used, with Malick filming them continuously, even when they weren’t acting, in keeping with his theme of spontaneity, with many not making the final cut, including Christian Bale, Benicio del Toro, Trevante Rhodes, Haley Bennett and others, including music groups Arcade Fire and Iron & Wine.  The film basically follows people on the periphery of the industry, Faye (Rooney Mara), herself a budding songwriter, seen early on having a JULES AND JIM (1962) style flirtatious relationship with two men, BV (Ryan Gosling), an up and coming songwriter and musician that she meets at a party, and Cook (Michael Fassbender), a wealthy record producer that is trying to sign him.  In Malick’s experimental phase, one never needs to buy into the religion or philosophy being discussed onscreen, as that’s all part of the transitional process “on becoming,” where artistically one delves under the surface to explore as much as they can to better understand the changing world around us, and who better than this director to help guide us through an inquisitive existential journey?  But that feeling of Malick euphoria or exhilaration is never achieved in this film, feeling more like masochistic indulgence, as one never believes in the actual romance, and any dialogue that does exist is simplistically awkward and trivial, as what’s missing are the essential ingredients of a healthy relationship.  While Faye is seduced by them both, a relative novice in the music industry, “I tell myself any experience is better than no experience.  I wanted to live. Sing my song,” this romantic interplay quickly moves from a free-wheeling innocence to one of more serious consequences, yet there’s no underlying credibility that it’s ever about love, as the emotional currency is money and power, as personified by Cook, who is something of a snake of a human being, who’s personal mantra becomes, “The world wants to be deceived,” where there’s not a shred of commitment or even relationship connectivity, as there’s never an extended conversation, the kind of thing relationships actually need to sustain themselves, instead it’s shown as a flurry of brief moments, like walking in on the tail end of a conversation, where much of the film is reduced to recognizable sound bites.  This simply can’t replace the real thing, so what we see is a cheap imitation, where the vacuous emotional distance between characters is more evident than ever, where the personal discomfort associated with watching the film actually feeds into this perception.     

Near the end of the film, like something you might find in a Jarmusch film, Faye reads aloud a passage from William Blake’s poem The Divine Image from Songs of Innocence and of Experience, 1789:

For Mercy has a human heart
Pity, a human face:
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.

It must be said that Malick as a director doesn’t do romance well.  While DAYS OF HEAVEN (1978) is in a class by itself, with a scintillatingly radiant Brooke Adams and a ruggedly handsome, young Richard Gere providing the thrust of the love story, BADLANDS (1973), The New World (2005), and To the Wonder (2012) may be his next best romantic efforts and in each instance love quickly collapses, as it simply has no foundation.  The same might be said for Kubrick, by the way, as both men are simply too ponderous, where their expertise is in exploring the stratosphere of thought and personal perception, where they are much better in visualizing the transcendence of the universe and the emotional chasms between people.  As she did in Knight of Cups (2015), the introduction of Natalie Portman as Rhonda sends the film into a downward trajectory.  A working class kindergarten teacher earning extra money waitressing, Cook decides to plant his hooks into her, dazzling her with the opulence of his home, making her his pet project, devoting all his time and energy in a larger-than-life courtship, finally convincing her to marry him, where we see glimpses of Holly Hunter as her more grounded but financially struggling mother, seemingly less impressed with Cook’s dazzling showmanship, even after he buys her a new home, where it’s all an act, a charade, as he soon makes a mockery of the marriage.  Consumed by three-way sexual trysts, stringing his wife along for the ride, even including prostitutes, becoming a sleazy portrait of Sodom and Gomorrah, he shows no regard whatsoever for the demoralizing effect this has on his wife, thinking only of himself, while she feels humiliated and ashamed.  Cook pulls the same con act on BV, making behind-the-back maneuvers that undermine his legitimacy, as he’s a conniving liar who will openly deceive you to your face, never showing an ounce of remorse.  While there’s an interesting connection to struggling parents, Faye’s father (Brady Coleman), ostracized from his own family, basically encourages her not to make the same mistakes that he made, while BV’s mother (Linda Emond) speaks out of turn, causing irreparable damage to an existing affair he’s having with Amanda (Cate Blanchett).  In fact, everyone sleeps around, with Faye having a girl-on-girl fling with the French-accented Zoey, Bérénice Marlohe, a James Bond girl in SKYFALL (2012), while BV has unfinished business with a former girlfriend Lykke (Swedish singer and fashion model Lykke Li), where personal betrayal becomes routine.  While there are side trips to Mexico, with a few days shot in the Yucatán, mulling around outdoor street scenes including food vendors, revealing a stark poverty in the daily lives of locals, each seems so willing to throw away their youth in the prime of their lives, finding it gone in the blink of an eye.  A montage of small moments, there’s really no compelling character in the bunch, so when they run astray, like Icarus flying too closely to the sun, there’s no real sense of tragedy or a feeling like something important has been lost, as there was not much of a connection to begin with.   One has to say it — this is downright average, on par with the rest of the bad movies.