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The Bourne Supremacy

From The New Yorker
Fast, faster, and fastest-that's the way the cutting rate goes in this sequel to The Bourne Identity. The director, Paul Greengrass, jumps ahead within scenes, then jumps again. Greengrass is like a man breathing so fast that he never draws much oxygen into his lungs. Yet, of its kind, The Bourne Supremacy is incredibly skilled. Greengrass arranges pursuits and escapes that fly like arrows. He tears up staid old Moscow in a car chase and turns routine C.I.A. procedural stuff-people looking at computer screens and barking code names and other gibberish at each other-into nerve-racking contests of will. The movie is stripped down for action, and its hero-the survivor of a botched operation who suffers from amnesia-has no identity beyond his superlative physical skills and a vague sense of guilt. Harried, chased, both hunted and hunter, the blunt-nosed Matt Damon is a superhero reduced to pure reflex, yet, by means of his isolation and his stoicism, he becomes almost a romantic figure. Set in Goa, Naples, Berlin, Moscow, and, should you blink, perhaps Madagascar and Sardinia, too. With Joan Allen, Brian Cox, Julia Stiles, and Franke Potente. Adapted by Tony Gilroy from a Robert Ludlum novel. -David Denby Copyright © 2006 The New Yorker