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The World Is Not Enough

Espionage Rules OK When The World Is Not Enough,
007 Makes The Best of What There Is

by Cole Smithey

Pierce Brosnan (Golden Eye and Tomorrow Never Dies) can do no wrong. While leading actors like Harrison Ford and Nicolas Cage recede into mere shadows of their former selves, Pierce Brosnan gleams with all the requisite savoir-faire and charisma that the longest-running film franchise in cinema history demands. Brosnan’s third installment as Her Majesty’s top secret agent 007 lives up to the lofty expectations set down by Sean Connery’s initial James Bond presence with an indispensable steely nerve and Bond’s signature unquenchable libido. British director Michael Apted, best known for his fantastic 7 Up documentary film series and Coal Miner’s Daughter (1980) makes a surprisingly impressive debut in the super-action genre of the Broccoli family dynasty.

By definition, a James Bond film must provide various exotic locations (in this case — Bilbao, Kazakhstan, Azerbaijan, and Instanbul), include mind-bending chase scenes on water, land, through buildings and other exceptional places, utilize slick gadgetry, have seduction scenes with audaciously beautiful women, and include an explosive ending that catapults Bond and his fille du jour into sequestered romantic bliss. The cinematic experience itself goes beyond guilty audience pleasure because there’s something in it for everyone. The feeling is akin to visiting characters that have become old friends in situations that continually add up to a life-affirming thrill ride. There is a deeply felt satisfaction in hearing that priceless James Bond theme music and digging into the latest spectacular pre-credit action sequence as a Generation X staple of entertainment. Of course the fact that the first Bond movie, Dr. No, came out during John F. Kennedy’s term in 1962, links the series inextricably to the height of liberty during America’s last great presidency.

In The World Is Not Enough, James Bond is trying to track down an international terrorist Renard (Robert Carlyle) who threatens to kill off lovely oil heiress Elektra King (Sophie Marceau – Braveheart). Elektra has already suffered as a former hostage of Renard but managed to escape before his hostage demands were met. Elektra is planning to open her own oil pipeline into Turkey since the explosive assignation of her wealthy father. It’s a theme right out of today’s news, as President Clinton has just approved a similar pipeline to deliver oil from Azerbajian and Georgia into Turkey without going through Russia or Iran. The screenwriters could not have landed on a more topical idea and although content is never the crux of a James Bond movie, it is an added bonus that the countries visited in The World Is Not Enough are currently very active in the news.

Judi Dench (Shakespeare In Love) returns to nourish the series as Bond’s strident boss "M," while Desmond Llewelyn returns for the nineteenth time as Bond’s meticulous gadget guru "Q." Robert Carlyle (Trainspotting, The Full Monty) does a brilliant turn as the ruthless terrorist Renard. He’s the nastiest villain to challenge Bond since Max Zorin (Christopher Walken) in A View To A Kill. Renard’s character is first introduced in a meeting between Bond and M as a giant three-dimensional translucent head revealing the bullet lodged in his brain that makes it impossible for him to feel pain. It’s an ingenious scene because it makes the question whether or not this man is still alive and what kind of monster could survive being in such a state. Carlyle always looks physically wrecked in his scenes while exuding an air of spontaneous combustion beneath his misshapen and sullen eyes.

The World Is Not Enough keeps the stakes for the James Bond franchise high by paying closer attention to character development and interaction than recent films in the series. M proves herself to not be a perfect judge of character and the beautiful Princess Elektra has a little "Stockholm Syndrome" stuck in the front of her mind to give the plot some artful double-crossing. Denise Richards may not be the most believable nuclear weapons expert as Dr. Christmas Jones but she is the most comely. Michael Apted more than hits his directorial marks and at two hours, eight minutes The World Is Not Enough is pound for explosion the best return on your entertainment dollar.

The Messenger

Teen Spirit Milla Jovovich Leads The Story of Joan of Arc to Success

by Cole Smithey

The mystical nature of France’s turbulent history finds a quintessential microcosm in the portrait of a fiercely religious seventeen year-old peasant girl who, with the words "I bring you news from God." "I am God’s messenger — Do set me bravely to work, and I will raise the siege of Orleans," convinced Charles the Dauphin of France to award her an army. With steely nerve, the eighteen-year-old Joan of Arc led France to victory over the English at Orleans in 1429 during its Hundred Years’ War with the English. It is French director Luc Besson’s (La Femme Nikita, The Fifth Element) commitment to depicting a fully realized historic composition that encompasses Joan’s inner emotional and exterior physical conflict that delivers The Messenger from reveling in its medieval battle sequences.

Initially, Joan is shown as a daydreaming, petite girl whose innocence is crushed when English soldiers attack and burn her tiny village of Domeremy. As Joan’s sister sacrifices her hiding place in a farmhouse closet to Joan, the sister is soon impaled and raped by a necrophile English soldier. The traumatized Joan, who was present at the event, is sent to live with her aunt and uncle, where she seeks the solace of the Catholic Church by giving confession on a daily basis. Joan’s overpowering sense of outrage and lust for revenge against the English, combined with her willingness to commit herself wholly to God, sets her up as an individual of super-human charisma, strength, and possessing an intuitive command of battle strategy that beguiles both her enemies and auxiliary alike. In this light, Besson shows Joan to have been a devout visionary on a par of a stigmatic believer. There is never an explanation attempted when Joan promptly recovers from an arrow wound to the chest that should have killed her. Joan is depicted as a fearless soldier who fought in the fray of battle with her soldiers before being worn down by the reality of combat and finally captured as a result of insufficient support by France’s newly crowed King Charles VII John Malkovich (In the Line of Fire, Dangerous Liaisons).

By keeping the editing tight, Besson avoids the traps of his own cinematic liberties like flash back sequences, dreamlike hallucinations, and flirtations with spectacle. An exhibition of color threatens to cheapen the film’s tone early in the movie when young Joan is shown running across fields of red, then yellow, then violet flowers. It becomes a forgivable postcard frame of reference for the audience to carry as a quality of Joan’s short-lived joyful youth. Besson pays homage to director Carl Dreyer’s famous 1927 silent film version of The Passion of Joan of Arc in assembling innumerable close-ups of Jovovich’s face over the course of the movie to reveal her profound spiritual struggle. As the actress’s voice becomes raspy and strained, Bresson’s tightly focused camera amplifies the emotion beneath Jovovich’s exquisite face.

Milla Jovovich (He Got Game, The Fifth Element) gives a mesmerizing performance as Joan of Arc that clings around her character’s brave, if aggrieved, spiritual essence and virtue. Jovovich provides an eloquent and challenging, fever-pitched vision of Joan as an illiterate idealist and miracle to France who found voice in her sword and her banner. Although Besson was quoted recently as saying that American actors are much better than French players, it is the glossy performances of John Malkovich as Charles and Faye Dunaway as Yolande D’Aragon (Charles’ discriminating mother-in-law) that call undue attention to themselves. There’s something snarky and false in their renditions of French royalty. Malkovich has become a period-piece cliché since his insufferable performance in Jane Campion’s The Portrait of a Lady. Rather than creating a character, Malkovich repeatedly resorts to his fey gestures and trivial lip movements that flash out as a symbol of ‘confused sexuality’ in every frame he’s in. Dunaway has made herself into a porcelain doll afraid of being caught in the wrong profile. She is so self-conscious that you feel her discomfort in front of the camera. Finally, Dustin Hoffman appears as a provocateur voice of Conscience to Joan during her darkest hours of jailed persecution before her sentence. The role itself sticks out as the weakest narrative link in Besson’s film and, however small Hoffman tries to keep his appearance, his needling presence negates the necessity of his questionable sub-plot.