http://www.express.co.uk/entertainment/films/670112/Film-reviews-Our-Kind-Of-Traitor-Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot-and-The-Angry-Birds-Movie
Film reviews: Our Kind Of Traitor, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot and The Angry Birds Movie
3 / 5 stars
WHERE'S a nice, handsome public school boy when you want one?
By Henry Fitzherbert
Our Kind Of Traitor (15, 107mins)
Director: Susanna White
Stars: Ewan McGregor, Naomie Harris, Stellan Skarsgard
Our Kind Of Traitor follows hot on the heels of fellow John Le Carré adaptation The Night Manager (although it was filmed two years ago) and the filmmakers are hoping to capitalise on the success of the TV series, but the comparison actually does it few favours: I’m afraid Ewan McGregor, once the golden boy of the British film industry, is no Tom Hiddleston.
Whereas the latter’s Jonathan Pine was super-suave, charming and steely of morals and determination, all burnished by Hiddleston’s stardom, McGregor’s Perry – a scraggly university lecturer caught up with the Russian mafia – is a bit of a louse who has cheated on his wife, looks like he could barely throw a punch and is in desperate need of a haircut.
For the record, we don’t see McGregor’s naked bottom, a la Hiddleston’s, but I don’t think too many will be upset about that. Yes, I know, these are very superficial reasons to fail to get excited about the film, which is perfectly watchable, but it does draw attention to what is missing: the X factor.
While well made, strongly acted and relatively intriguing the film doesn’t have a distinguishing feature to make it a cinematic must see, be that a charismatic star turn, sumptuous locations or thrilling action.
It is smaller less glamorous and fun, even though it explores very similar territory: disloyalty to Queen and Country in the form of naked greed and opportunism.
The guilty man here is a dodgy, pocket-lining British MP (Jeremy Northam) who is taking colossal backhanders to facilitate the establishment of a new bank in the City which will launder Russian mafia millions.
The story’s biggest personality, however, is the Russian mafia insider Dima (Stellan Skarsgard), who offers to blow the lid on proceedings, on the proviso that British intelligence guarantee safe harbour for him and his family in the UK (sweetly, he thinks he’ll be beyond the reach of Russian nasties in good old Blighty. If only.)
He’s an ebullient hardman, played with relish by Skarsgard, and it’s his relationship with McGregor’s Perry which holds the film together, much like that between Hugh Laurie and Hiddleston in The Night Manager.
Perry falls under Dima’s spell after encountering him on holiday in Morocco with his hotshot barrister wife Gail (an underused Naomie Harris). Perry agrees to pass on a memory stick to the British authorities, which brings him into contact with determined MI6 officer Hector Meredith (an excellent Damian Lewis) who becomes his handler as events unfold.
It’s all a bit unlikely as Perry and his wife find themselves turning into de facto secret agents, travelling from Paris to Bern and the French Alps. What’s lacking is a Hitchcockian sense of irony and dark humour, not to mention nail-biting suspense (the story feels a little small fry somehow).
Directed by Susanna White, it nevertheless holds the attention and there are some powerful outbursts against corruption and the black economy which feel very relevant, mostly delivered by Lewis’s Hector, a cool man bristling with suppressed rage. McGregor may be a bit limp here but Lewis keeps the Old Etonian end up.
All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt. (Charles M. Schulz)
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