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The Battle of the Blonde Bombshells
There is little to say of the plot or characters of Spy
Game, especially if you've seen any Tony Scott movie.
There's tension in the high levels of government, one guy
plays by the rules, the other doesn't, they clash, lots of
stuff blows up, the end. Who knows how much of this is plausible,
and really, who cares? The point of this exercise is superficial
entertainment. It tries to make some point about the CIA using
innocents for its own purposes, but we already knew that.
I, for one, don't really care—I grew up thirty miles
from the B-2 bomber, and I want Colonel Jessup on that wall.
The real point of all this is to give Tony Scott a woody
to poke out of his pink shorts. For the uninitiated movie
types, Tony Scott is Jerry Bruckheimer's go-to guy. He gets
the "artistic" Bruckheimer stuff—you know,
like Enemy of the State and Crimson Tide. Bruckheimer
stuff always has some sort of sexual subtext: Nic Cage raping
cars in Gone In 60 Seconds, the deflowering of the
virginal American spirit in Pearl Harbor, hell, I'll
even throw in his vision of Bosch's paintings of the minions
of hell amongst the flames of the girls in Coyote Ugly.
The Tony Scott film almost always has a homoerotic subtext
between the two male leads, celebrating the undying teamwork
and friendship of bonded men whose real feelings for each
other are buried in the bothersome presence of women and testerone-jacked
settings (For instance, take The Fan or Days of
Thunder.) You may dismiss this as drivel, but I ask you:
What else do you make of our pink-shorts wearing, cigar-smoking
director who gave us the line, "Maverick, I've got your
tail."? That is, of course, from Top Gun, which
a figure no less than Quentin Tarantino once called "The
most homoerotic movie in the history of Hollywood." C'mon,
how about his "seamen" movie, Crimson Tide?
I'm sure JimmyO will get more in-depth into this, but let
me just remind you that Tony's first movie starred Catherine
Deneuve and Susan Sarandon as lesbian vampires.
So it's absolutely impossible for me not to look at Spy
Game as nothing more than a chance for Tony to gaze his
lens longingly at Robert Redford and Brad Pitt. Oh yeah, there's
government intrigue and tense interrogation scenes, but the
strength of the film is the scenes between Redford and Pitt.
Redford is the mentor, advising the cocky neophyte in the
ways of the business. There's a subtext, I think, in the conversations
that extends beyond the midnight fantasies of Tony Scott.
Here we have the most universally revered "Sexiest Men
Alive" of their respective generations, squaring off
as teacher and student.
Robert Redford, whatever we may say about some of his acting
choices, has directed at least two great movies: Quiz Show
and his Oscar winner of 1980 Ordinary People. Though
Ordinary People has faded over time, we could even
compliment A River Runs Through It and The Milagro
Beanfield War if we wanted. And here he is now, craggle-faced
with deep canals entrenched in what used to be the most handsome
face in Hollywood. The Legend of Bagger Vance aside,
Redford's made a bit of a comeback in the last year, proving
that in the very least, he's a survivor. Perhaps this is a
message to Brad Pitt. Pitt, who has taken some daring roles
in the last decade, hasn't yet achieved what might be called
"greatness." I think he's a talented actor, and
he willingly, almost as a protest, takes "edgy"
roles that no one else could fill. And he takes an ass kicking
like no one else in Hollywood. But there's still a void in
Pitt's career that, when it's all over, will still nag at
him. When Redford hangs it up, he'll go out a winner. Surprisingly
going on thirty-nine, Pitt has yet to build the kind of clout
that will keep him around after his face begins to fall. And
that's the message Redford seems to be passing to his student
when they discuss the intricacies of spying—learn your
craft, employ it fearlessly, and success will follow. That,
and it gave Tony a reason to really work over that cigar.
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