American Ultra

It can be hard to write a review. Sometimes I find it difficult to look at something critically because of how much I enjoyed it, and at other times it can be hard to find something good to say about something I strongly disliked. But this time, a complete lack of any feelings one way or the other makes reviewing American Ultra hard, a film so unremarkable in every way that I forgot I had already seen this film when it first came out in the cinema nearly five years ago.

American Ultra is the story of Mike Howell and Phoebe Larson, a couple of unambitious stoners who live together in the town of Liman, West Virginia. Unbeknown to Mike, he's really a secret CIA asset from an Ultra program, a highly trained killing machine who can be activated with a coded phrase. When the person responsible for the Ultra program learns that he is to be taken out by a rival CIA agents operation, she travels to Liman in order to activate Mike and save his life.

Despite this seemingly interesting premise, there is very little of American Ultra that feels at all original or noteworthy. The most obvious problem facing it is that it was marketed as something it isn't – those expecting a mash up of the Bourne films and a stoner comedy are going to be sorely disappointed when they realise that much of the films run-time is dedicated to exploring the (admittedly rather sweet) relationship that Mike and Phoebe share, the infrequent comedic moments being rooted in character and having nothing to do with our heroes penchant for substance abuse, a part of our main characters that really isn't needed. The stoner aspect of American Ultra has no bearing on either the plot of the film or the characters themselves beyond surface level (and I'm talking mainly costume design here), and if anything distracts from the film during potentially important moments. Jesse Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart bring enough to their characters for this 'humanising' aspect of them to feel unnecessary and the cynic in me sees it as an if not manipulative then certainly questionable attempt to sell the film to a wider demographic – one that has wholly failed, judging by the under-whelming box office numbers that American Ultra took back when it was first released.

On the plus side, Jesse Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart are, as I already mentioned, really quite good as Mike and Phoebe respectively. Jesse Eisenberg's Mike is the right level of vulnerable to garner sympathy and understanding without alienating the audience, and despite some questionable career choices Kristen Stewart more than proves yet again that she can actually act. Although it isn't a particularly original pairing (the two of them having already shared the screen for Adventureland) it can't be said that it isn't a great bit of casting – a good job too, given how American Ultra is far too content to try and get by on the charms of their lead actors alone.

Everything else about American Ultra is nothing more than mediocre. Topher Grace is competent but unremarkable as the films bureaucratic bad guy. The side-plot dealing with the inner-workings of the CIA is an acceptable distraction to the central narrative. The action scenes are evenly placed throughout the films running time and don't go on for too long. This constant level of 'fine' becomes almost over-whelming by the time the film draws to a close, and results in a movie that I was already forgetting by the time I'd left the cinema. It's a film without highs or lows, a film that should be vivid and full of energy but is instead completely monotone, a film that exists and nothing more.

American Ultra is a perfect example of when the sum of the pieces is less than the value of the pieces themselves - this is a film that is consistently OK, but somehow less than OK when taken as a whole. It failed to resonate with me, it was unable to engage me as an audience member, it was incapable of making me care about what was happening - no matter which way you phrase it, something about American Ultra simply didn't work. I can't say I would or wouldn't recommend American Ultra because ultimately, I feel nothing but pure apathy towards it. And in some ways, that's more harmful than being bad.

The Post

Like a few of Spielberg's more recent movies except Ready Player One, The Post (which sits comfortably alongside Lincoln and Bridge of Spies in what I'm calling Spielberg's "important events in American history" trilogy) is a film with a lot of narrative on its hands. It's telling the story of Katharine Graham, the publisher of the Washington Post during the Nixon administration and the difficulties she faced in being taken seriously in a male-dominated environment. It's also telling the story of Ben Bradlee, the executive editor of the Washington Post during the release of the Pentagon Papers and, later, the Watergate scandal. And it's ALSO telling the story behind The Pentagon Papers, a decades long deception of the American people by the American government in order to maintain public support for a war they know they can't win.

It's a lot, but it works because much like how Bridge of Spies isn't really about the Cold War at all, The Post isn't really about those things either. Instead, it's about the importance of a free press and the vital role they play in any true democracy, which makes The Post feel extremely relevant in the time of Trump and "fake news". There are speeches given by characters here that may as well be delivered directly to the camera and addressed to 2018 itself, and while that has the potential to come across as preachy, Spielberg's guiding hand alongside Liz Hannah's solid script ensures that's never quite the case, resulting in a film that speaks to its audience rather than at them. It helps, of course, that most of these speeches are delivered by everyone's favourite uncle Tom Hanks, who plays Ben Bradlee much the same way he played James Donovan in Bridge of Spies – intelligent, righteous, and not afraid to speak up in the face of injustice, regardless of the consequences he might face.

But Hanks is just one part of what makes The Post work. Something I'm really enjoying about several of Spielberg's more recent projects is the amount of credible actors and actresses he's able to get involved and The Post offers no exception – you've got Bradley Whitford, Bob Odenkirk, Alison Brie, Bruce Greenwood, Jesse Plemmons and Sarah Paulson rounding out the cast in roles of varying sizes, all of whom manage to leave an impression. But of course it's Meryl Streep who ends up walking away with The Post and an Oscar nomination under her arm, introducing us to Katherine Graham as a nervous and uncertain woman with very little self-belief before transforming her into a confident leader in what is easily The Post's most interesting storyline. It's a shame that we've gotten so used to Meryl Streep receiving award nominations for everything she does – this is a genuinely great performance, and it's frustrating that those who haven't seen The Post might assume that the praise she received for this role is because of who she is not because of what she's done.

Where The Post does falter somewhat, however, is in the actual film-making itself, albeit in very minor ways. Other than an opening scene in Vietnam, the cinematography feels pretty lifeless throughout, and there are a number of scenes where the dialogue doesn't feel as snappy as it should, or a shot feels like it's been held for just a beat too long. It's here that Spielberg's "one big, one small" approach to filmmaking seems to work against him – I can't help but feel that these issues, minor as they might be, wouldn't exist if The Post hadn't been shot, edited and released all while he was still working on post-production for (the god awful) Ready Player One. Given the time and attention that it deserved, The Post could've been a genuinely great movie rather than just a very good one.

But it's also ultimately the worst thing I can find to say about The Post. Even with it feeling as if it were put together in a bit of a hurry, it still easily manages to hit every emotional beat it sets its sights on, and the result is still an engaging, timely and downright important piece of cinema all the same, one that you can't help but get wrapped up in and absorbed by as it progresses. Perfect? No. Spielberg at his best? Again, no. But even as the weakest film in that aforementioned "important events in American history" trilogy, lacking the tension of Bridge of Spies or the sheer craftsmanship behind Lincoln, The Post is still nothing less than an incredibly solid movie that once again proves Spielberg to be one of the most accomplished directors in the industry.