A FAR MORE established (and distinguished, and probably more likeable) film reviewer than I likes to call Orlando Bloom ‘Orloondo Bland’, a designation that nearly always causes me to smile, or at least to try hard not to smile. Like all the best jokes, the name’s amusing because it carries within it an element of truth, and this thought occurred to me as I watched Orloondo––excuse me, Orlando––struggle through several scenes in the guise of the mockney-accented marine Jack in Unlocked.
Alice Racine (Noomi Rapace) is a French-born CIA interrogator posing as a social worker in East London. She left France for the United States when she was 12 years old, but she speaks with an English accent, and we can only assume that she watched a lot of Monty Python during the first dozen years of her life and those cut-glass English tones stuck.
Alice Racine (Noomi Rapace) is a French-born CIA interrogator posing as a social worker in East London. She left France for the United States when she was 12 years old, but she speaks with an English accent, and we can only assume that she watched a lot of Monty Python during the first dozen years of her life and those cut-glass English tones stuck. At any rate, Alice is haunted by the mistakes of her past. Specifically, she blames herself for the deaths of dozens of people in a terrorist attack in Paris because she couldn’t ‘unlock’ a prisoner (and obtain the necessary information to prevent the attack) in time. Her relatively uneventful sabbatical doesn’t last long. The world of international espionage and counter-terrorism pull her back in, as these things somehow always tend to do, and Alice is called upon to extract information from a young radical set on blowing up part of London.
Everything goes wrong. The story jumps from London, Alice and the office of the head of MI5 (Toni Collette channelling Annie Lennox) to Langley, Virginia, where the bored and irritable CIA chief (John Malkovich), tries to keep everything under control. At some point, when she isn’t beating the pulp out of London’s Finest or fleeing relentless and unsmiling hitmen, she encounters Jack, a cheeky and cheerful veteran marine who has the sort of cockney accent that might be spoken by someone who has never heard a cockney accent, and who more or less forces her to take him on as her accomplice.
There’s something very Bourne about all this. There’s something very Mission Impossible about it, too, and in fact, if you happened to be feeling generous you might also add to the mixture a handful of 24 and a dash of London Has Fallen. To put it another way, the whole thing has been done before, and usually it’s done much better. It’s refreshing to see a female action lead and accent aside, Rapace proves––as she did in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo––that she’s a serious and compelling actress. This, however, is the wrong engine for her talents. And the others––Collette, Malkovich and Michael Douglas, playing Alice’s station chief based in London––also fail to weather Peter O’Brien’s hackneyed plot and the frankly stupid dialogue.
There are enough twists to make even the most iron-stomached audience members feel slightly sick.
There are enough twists to make even the most iron-stomached audience members feel slightly sick. And naturally after the third twist or the fourth (or the fifth––it depends on your patience, really) you go into every subsequent scene thinking that nobody is who they say they are, nobody can be trusted, and why on earth didn’t you simply stay at home and bang your head repeatedly against a wall, because then at least you might eventually become dizzy and confused enough to see something original. Unlocked is a weak film and one in a genre (or sub-genre) that is rapidly filling up with weak films.