I’ve gone on about Steven Spielberg too many times to count.
At 68, not only does he remain the greatest living director, as well as the pioneer of
the modern blockbuster, he’s also stretched his versatility with some of the
most impressive prestige pictures of all time, such as Schindler’s List and
Saving Private Ryan. Even as he gets older, he shows no sign of slowing down or
losing his touch, as evidenced by his one-two punch of Tintin and War Horse in
2011, the more restrained and methodical Lincoln in 2012, and in 2016 with his
adaptation of The BFG.
As for what he has going on inbetween, today we’ll talk
about his Cold War espionage Thriller Bridge of Spies. A film inspired by true
events of the exchange of a Soviet and American spy to be released back to
their respective countries, it seemed like such a natural fit for Spielberg’s
directorial eye. Yet at the same time, it also seemed like a potential change of
pace to Spielberg. Regardless, Bridge of Spies stands comfortably among
Spielberg’s best, and most restrained films yet.
In 1957, FBI agents entered the home of Rudolf Abel (Mark
Rylance), and arrested him on suspicion of being a Soviet Spy. Following this,
New York lawyer James Donovan (Tom Hanks) was enlisted to represent him in
court, even though Abel was ultimately sentenced to serve thirty years in
prison by the end. Things escalated even more when the spy plane of pilot
Francis Gary Powers (Austin Stowell) was shot down over Soviet air space, and
Powers was detained. This led to Donovan collaborating with the CIA, attempting
to negotiate an exchange of individuals with the Soviet Union, as well as
secure the release of an American student held by East German police; Tasks all
easier said than done.
The thing that may immediately strike most viewers about
Bridge of Spies is that it is Spielberg’s most stylistically toned down movie
yet. Largely veering away from the sentimentality of many of his most well
known films, Spielberg finds himself quickly adapting to a slow-burning and
calculated style of tension in line with a spy-thriller. Much of the time, it
feels like something out of a John Le Carre novel. Spielberg often hangs back
to place more emphasis on the intricacies of the screenwriting, impressively
assembled by Matt Charman and the Brothers Coen, Joel and Ethan.
The film is very dialogue driven in the same vein of
Spielberg’s previous Lincoln, and has the difficult task of painstakingly relaying
information to the audience at breakneck speed. However, at no point does such
a thing ever become boring. The screenplay is impressive in that it weaves its
way through events and meat and potato facts with surprising entertainment
value. The film has a surprising sense of distinctly Coen-esque wit, and
manages to wring out a quietly lasting tension and gravity to the proceedings
with much finesse.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that Spielberg is directing on
auto-pilot. Truth be told, the script, as expertly crafted as it is on its own,
wouldn’t translate well to the screen were it not for Spielberg’s unmatched
craftsmanship and flair. Spielberg’s own attention to detail and technical eye
are essential to the film’s quiet suspense. One such example is how Spielberg
uses several prominent long takes to let the mood of each scene flow unbroken,
always establishing uneasiness and a feeling of paranoia.
This means his sentimentality is often muted, reliably so,
but that doesn’t mean that the movie strips Spielberg away of everything that
makes him such a distinct and fascinating filmmaker, allowing his warmth to
come through in sparse, but well earned punctuation throughout. His way with visual
design is impressive as ever, much of which are supplied by the list of his
usual collaborators. One who hasn’t collaborated with him, however, is composer
Thomas Newman, filling in for John Williams (currently working on the next Star
Wars film). This actually makes for a fitting and inspired change in musical
pace, as Spielberg often opts for extended stretches with virtually no music,
and Newman’s own restrained and deeply emotional stylistics are seamlessly
suited to the subdued nature of the film.
Performance-wise, Spielberg gets the very best out of his
actors. In his fourth collaboration with the director, Tom Hanks returns as the
always reliable everyman he’s become famous for, and armed with an endearing
Jimmy Stewart-esque command and screen presence, makes the complex sequences of
negotiation consistently rousing and entertaining to watch. But it’s stage
actor Mark Rylance as Soviet Spy Rudolf Abel who earns MVP status. Despite the
fact that the true shady nature of the character can never be denied, the film
never demonizes or simplifies Abel’s character as an easy villain. Much
attention is given to how Donovan wants him to be treated as fairly as any
American citizen, and the film further establishes this with much empathy and understanding,
with Rylance contributing much poignant warmth and wit to the character, making
us love the character, and - even if momentarily – making us forget the
character’s past nature. Even when he steps aside for most of the film’s second
half, he leaves an unforgettable impact on the film even when he’s not in it.
Bridge of Spies gave me everything that I wanted out of the
film, and then some. With Spielberg toning down his usual stylistic choices, it’s
allowed him the chance to further stretch his versatility with his craft,
lacing the screenwriting with effective slow burning build up and tension, and
has also allowed for some of the finest acting in his films thus far. I can’t help but be thrilled about everything that he’ll have to offer next,
and I look forward to rewatching this one several more times
***** / *****
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