Spoilers below.
Norman: Watched Martin Scorsese’s Casino last night for the first time in ages. It’s a lot.
Tyler: Oh man. I saw that in the theater. I was like twelve.
Norman: Dang.
Tyler: A religion teacher took exception when I mentioned it in class.
Norman: Hm. Understandable. Great movie. Not really for 12-year-old kids.
But we are here to talk about Black Bag, which does not involve any casinos. Or the mob. Or drugs. Or child abuse.
Tyler: Black Bag. If this movie had been released in 1996, we’d be hearing a lot of known critics describing it as a “smart, adult thriller.”
Now, is it actually a smart, adult thriller?
Norman: Tyler, this is 2025. All I want to know is the Rotten Tomatoes score!!!
Just checked. 96% Fresh. 70% on the popcornmeter.
Tyler: I miss the days of actual critics being cited in ads. Not social media handles. Even if it was like, I dunno, Natasha Pollerando from the Sacramento Bee, it felt vaguely professional.
Norman: Yeah. And in most cases, you presume that the critic actually knows a thing or two about movies.
Tyler: Well, we’re here to grab that responsibility by the lapel! Amateur film enthusiasts at the ready!
This is, incidentally, our second Soderbergh in the last couple of months. Presence was a solid double in the gap.
Norman: Let’s start with “adult.” Is this movie an “adult” thriller? If so, in what way?
Tyler: Well, I was being a bit of a wiseass, but I do think it fair to put Black Bag in a category called Pictures Made For Adults. It folds frank talk of sex and head-spinning geopolitical intrigue into a narrative about a marriage. Throughout BB I kept thinking “I don’t know from John Cassavetes, but isn’t this his kinda movie?” We’ve got two dinner-table discussion scenes.
Norman: So, this is basically My Dinner with Andre, but with spies?
Tyler: See, what we’ve got here is an espionage upgrade of Pushing Tin.
Norman: Okay, okay, we have to stop.
But, yes, this is for adults. No teen kid is taking his date out to see Black Bag. It’s not super-fast paced, the characters are intelligent (and many of them very unlikeable, but not in a cool unlikeable way), and it really is a sort of meditation on the meaning of marriage.
Tyler: Not only are the characters intelligent, but almost all of them think themselves the smartest person in any given room. That sort of air can be insufferable. It’s a credit both to the actors and to Soderbergh that the characters, however arrogant, remain compelling.
Norman: Good observation. Part of what makes the movie “adult” is that it is populated with smart people. And let me be insufferable myself for a moment and say that only smart people will enjoy this movie.
Tyler: I’m not gonna wander down that road. It’s a dialogue-heavy psychological examination of especially British intelligence agents, seasoned heavy with wartime stakes and conflict ripped from the headlines. Perhaps enjoyment of those elements makes one smart; maybe it just makes them stuffy. I hesitate to fall completely on either side. There’s a lot of merit in Black Bag, but I think we’ve got, just like Presence, a strong cinematic two-bagger. Maybe an RBI or two tacked on.
Norman: It runs at a quick 90 minutes. I’m wondering if that brevity keeps Black Bag from fleshing things out in a way that might make it a stronger movie.
Tyler: I was looking forward to the tight runtime, as oh-so-many films are too long by half. You may have a point, though. This thing is trimmed to the bone. I have a pretty strict tolerance limit when watching bad characters do bad things—I’m good on even a single episode of Succession, thanks—but there’s just enough dazzle and soul in the rapport between Michael Fassbender and Cate Blanchett, our married secret agents, to want maybe a little more.
I’m good on the rest of the crew. Actually, no, hold that thought. More, more, more scenes of Pierce Brosnan absolutely gnashing the scenery. Divine.
Norman: I might go a little further and say that there’s great rapport and tension between each of the couples here and between non-coupled characters. I wanted to soak in that toxic juice a little more!
Tyler: I did find the film’s depiction of psychoanalysis odd. Is this really how heads get shrunk in MI6? Social engagements right alongside required sessions?
Norman: I hadn’t thought much about that, but it does seem strange. And is it true that these people truly have no outside contacts? One would imagine that living in a social world that insular might make one go crazy. Is that the point of the movie?!?!?!?!?!
Tyler: Well, this is a story that turns on a drone strike instigated because Blanchett ain’t about to let her marriage be spoiled. The drone strike has massive effects on the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and thus the world at large. But hey, Pierce got his!
This is not to say I approve of the drone strike or not. I ain’t wandering down that road either.
Norman: Without giving much away, I truly loved the “black bag” theme. In marriage, as in all meaningful relationships, there are “black bags,” areas of blindness between partners. What we do with those “black bags” will matter a great deal. Spies offer a nice, maybe too on the nose, way to explore that idea. But it’s also real. I’m good friends with a guy in naval intelligence. There are things he simply can’t tell his wife and she has to accept the not knowing of their relationship.
Tyler: That’s gotta be tough.
I could imagine an ideal in the honesty between Blanchett and Fassbender. That’s on its face absurd—they’re both specialists in diversion and deception—but they don’t do anything that would willfully harm the other. Indeed, they act to protect each other, and if that means stopping a government-sanctioned nuclear meltdown in Russia, well, that’s what they’ll do. No bullshit between two bullshitters.
Norman: They have to trust that idea, that they have each other’s interest and protection in mind. Otherwise, the relationship breaks down as all the other relationships in the movie kind of do.
Tyler: That’s a helluva trust.
Norman: I’d like to talk about a minor complaint I have with Black Bag. Peter Andrews is behind the camera for this one and he seems to love putting halos around every source of light in high contrast rooms. It distracted me to no end, and I couldn’t figure out what the point was.
Tyler: Ah yes. Peter Andrews. You’re aware of his pedigree?
Norman: Indeed.
Tyler: I’ll emphasize over and over to the moon and back how badass it is that Soderbergh shoots his own stuff. Halos be damned.
Norman: Look, I’m impressed with anyone who directs, shoots, and edits their own movies, but I just couldn’t figure out what he was doing with this.
Tyler: I honestly didn’t notice. Too wrapped up in intrigue was I!
Norman: Well, I’m glad for you. It’s a minor complaint but there were times when I couldn’t get past it. Like, get one of those lens cleaners, please!
Tyler: Are we satisfied with this one?
Norman: I don’t know, do you have any classified information you want to share, just in case?
Tyler: Hell no! Black bag black bag!
Norman: Okay, cuz I was thinking about adding the editor in chief of National Review to this chat.
Tyler: Careful with those wisecracks. You might get black bagged.
Norman: I’m pre-emptively calling it a witch hunt.
Tyler: Gonna be tough to pull off these chats from super-rural Louisiana.
Norman: Anyway, Black Bag is good. Maybe not top tier Soderbergh, but that’s okay. It’s still a pleasure to see a well-crafted movie about adults with pointed political implications and compelling psychological observations.
Tyler: And Pierce.
I mean, that dude is ice-cold. He eats fish while the fish still breathes.
Norman: I am not that tough, to be honest.
Tyler: Not even a little. Let the fish die!
Norman: Put it in some sushi!
Tyler: That sounds like a plan. But stay away from the channa masala.
Writers' Loom 