Review: The Rhythm Section
The spy movie is one of the most established genres in the cinema canon. Because of that, I’m sure you have a picture in your head regarding what a spy and their movie should look like. This is not merely about gender, but it certainly includes that. When most people think spy craft, they think about a good-looking man in a perfectly tailored suit, making minimal mistakes. And if the character isn’t male, a la Angelina Jolie in Salt or Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the spy is still dressed to the nines and using some pretty fantastic gadgets to get the job done. Producer Barbara Broccoli (of James Bond fame) has now given us The Rhythm Section with a woman in the lead and in the director’s chair, and it is probably not what you expect going in.
The Rhythm Section, expertly directed by Reed Morano, seeks to turn the genre on its head. This is not a film that opens with an extended action sequence to draw in the audience, although there is a feint toward that. Instead, we truly begin with tragedy, and it is not quick. Stephanie Patrick (Blake Lively) has lost her entire family in a bombing attack on an airplane, on which she was supposed to be aboard. Of note, although we see her family in flashback, they are unreachable both to us and Stephanie, thanks to incredible sound design and a haunting score from Steve Mazzaro.
Morano clearly trusts Lively, frequently pushing the camera in on her distraught face as she processes her grief through nearly half of the film’s runtime. This might be Lively’s most challenging role, and she is nearly flawless, minus some dodgy accent work. Normally, this would be mild praise, as the spy film typically does not demand much of our leads, aside from some quips. But in this case, due to her performance, you feel genuine risk and concern. This is not a professional, this is a woman out of her element. She is doing what she feels she must do, first for revenge and then for survival. It is easy to catch yourself feeling confident for her, right up until everything goes wrong, and you remember exactly who she is, for better or worse.
But again, nothing here is typical. The introduction of Jude Law as a mentor of sorts is really where the movie takes off. It is also the decision point for the audience. These moments will either gain or lose you. Instead of the expected training perfection one might expect in a spy film, it becomes more akin to those seen in a martial arts movie. He is not kind, he is not forgiving, and he never gives in, whether she improves or not. Even in Stephanie’s finest moments physically (and they are precious few), he is unmoved. When she succeeds, he gives her the barest hints of approval. There are no training miracles here, they have limited time, and she will never reach the pinnacle she truly desires. Importantly, to him, the only thing that matters is what she can achieve, not what she has endured. It strikes viciously as a hard, cold lesson, but a true one. Regardless of what we have been through, the world at large is at best unaware, and at worst uncaring. Again, this is not the journey of a secret agent filled with glamour and intrigue. She is told repeatedly that none of this will be worth it, but it is up to her whether or not she continues.
This is not to say that there are no fun twists and turns or action sequences. They are definitely here and reward the audience for their patience. The introduction of information broker Marc Serra (Sterling K. Brown) also allows Lively to show off her easy chemistry, all while playing a part in order to remain distant. These moments, more than any other apart from her training, show her growth and coming into herself for the first time since the terrible events that seemed to have ruined her. In an unexpected moment, there is an extended car chase that literally had me on the edge of my seat, gritting my teeth. But again, this isn’t James Bond in a product placement sports car taking hairpin turns with ease. This is an inexperienced person, in a new situation, merely trying to survive the moment. Outside of the subgenre of comedy spies, such as Melissa McCarthy in Spy, the struggling beginning agent is something we rarely see. Our spies always have the last word, the final ace up their sleeve. Instead here, we have a relatable performance (equally rare in this genre) of someone desperately grappling for a way in, and then a way out when they have gone too deep.
The Rhythm Section will not be for everyone, and much of that is due to expectations. But those lucky enough to go in with an open mind may be treated to not only a wonderful turn from Blake Lively, but also, finally, a different take on a genre devoid of much originality. The problem with many spy films can be that the lead characters are not allowed to diverge from the constrictions of not only genre, but of predetermined characters. The Rhythm Section has no such limitations and takes full advantage to tell a different kind of spy story, and an unpredictable one at that.
