Bourne v. In The Grey: an action film comparison

Beautiful movies have captured my imagination for many years. These days I do not go to the movie theater nearly as often as I did when I was a teen, but certain films from that era left an impression.

I remember watching the Bourne movies (Identity, Supremacy, Ultimatum) in theaters. While not appealing to everyone, the shaky, handheld camera enhances the action sequences. These are not films to be watched while swiping through a phone. Each shot conveys meaning through subtle, fleeting details. 

The strength and compelling nature of Matt Damon’s performance as Jason Bourne is in the vulnerability he maintains through all three films.  From the first shot he is bereft of knowledge, unable to find his place in the world. He accepts help and support. He slowly learns the horrifying truth about who he was, what he has done.  

Damon’s facial expressions are muted, a man trying to protect himself by revealing almost nothing, but in those moments when his training and instincts kick in you can see it in his face. He fights to protect himself, to protect others, and most critically in the second movie to apologize. It is a rare action movie where the plot hinges on the journey towards a sincere apology.

In the third movie he reveals that he sees the faces of people he has killed.  He is not a machine, despite the efforts of those who sought to control body and break his mind.  He remains haunted by fleeting memories.

I recently watched the three Bourne movies and shortly after saw In The Grey, a new movie directed by Guy Ritchie. 

Bourne v. Grey

In the Bourne films the drama is emotional. Yes, there are extremely well choreographed and executed fight scenes, but Bourne is not a man who carries an arsenal or drives flashy cars. He occasionally uses firearms, but a lot of the combat is hand to hand using found objects. He defends himself with a pen, a towel, a rolled up newspaper, a swiped bottle of alcohol. He is opportunistic, snagging keys to mopeds, jumping into unattended vehicles, he travels light. 

His emotional center is Marie, with whom he built is a relationship over the course of two films.  Her death is sudden and carries a resonance that guides his actions for the better.  While the backdrop of the moves are cities across Europe and around the world, the films do not present the life of an assassin as a desirable one.  The “assets” sent to kill Bourne, are often notified of their targets while lying down, staring blankly into space, in empty darkened rooms.

In the third Bourne movie the importance of his relationship with Marie is underscored when another woman (Nikki) enters his sphere.  Though there are mirroring scenes where both women dye their hair as a disguise, the movie makes it clear Nikki is not Marie. The women are individuals.  They are not interchangeable accessories in Bourne’s story. 

Ironically there is nothing subtle about In The Grey. The colors are bright, the characters are plain as day. There is no hidden agenda.  Perhaps the best performance is from Rosamund Pike, who unfortunately is not in nearly enough scenes to make the movie watchable.  In some ways it feels like she is in a separate film of her own. At times she is menacing and poised, but she is also willing to make herself look deeply uncool.  

There is a scene partway through the movie where she is running on a treadmill, hunched over, in the dark. She is sweaty and awkward.  In the last scene of the film she slouches in her chair staring nervously at a red landline phone on her desk, which is frankly ridiculous. Who uses a landline anymore? I suppose the implication is that she is tied to the phone in that office for eternity.

In any case, Pike’s acting only highlights the lack of emotional gravitas displayed by the movie’s main actress, Eliza Gomez.  The first thing I noticed about Gomez was her lips, and then I could not unnotice them. While sharing a scene, she contrasts strikingly with Pike, whose lips look proportionately natural, like they belong to her face. 

Eliza Gomez may be good in some films, I do not know, I have not seen her act in anything else, but in this film her character falls flat in a number of ways.

She is supposedly a high-powered attorney, but you never see her speak in front of the judge.  You only witness as she stands while the judge decides in her favor. Repeatedly. This is deeply unimpressive. Maybe they didn’t want to hire a lawyer to fact check courtroom exposition. It’s a shame because the movie is chock full of exposition. So. Much. Exposition.

Gomez makes coffee over exposition of how she is taking down the empire of this evil billionaire via her hired men (Gyllenhaal and Cavill).  There may be actors who could make this scene interesting, but she is just making coffee.  Yes, she’s in a fancy office, in a fancy outfit, with her employee/admirers looking on.  But she’s still just making coffee.

Then there are the “boys” and their toys.

Jake Gyllenhaal shows off a garage full of brightly colored ATVs/explosive devices/bikes, etc. and details what all of them are. I have been on dates this bad, with men who brought me outside the restaurant to show me their cool car, not realizing that the only way I would be impressed is if they never mention it at all.

Gyllenhaal and Cavill hire more men for their squad, “the boys” but how they all know and trust each other is never fully explained, or perhaps it was and it didn’t leave an impression. In any case, the boys look cool. They do cool shit, looking cool.  

They call Gomez “mom” for some  reason.  I get that it’s supposed to be ironic, but there are no moments of affection or interpersonal connection that would warrant this term of endearment. They do not even touch her or each other in comfort or kindness. There are no stories or personal moments shared, no way to empathize with their experience.  Are they afraid, regretful, defiant? Why have they taken on this extremely dangerous job?  You’ll never know and his movie will never tell. 

After killing round upon round of the billionaire’s nameless henchmen move towards them like swarming ants, one of the boys makes a sacrifice.  He blows up a house with himself inside, taking out most of the remaining henchmen.  Which character was he? I don’t know. I did not care that he died, did not care that anyone died. The other characters (his supposed friends?) spend about 10 seconds thinking on his death before promptly moving on.  By comparison, the loss of two small planes (aka “toys”) holds greater emotional weight in the film than any loss of life. 

The movie reads like a video game.  It is a movie I imagine a boy who has spent too much time playing video games would make. There are silent women who lounge around the billionaire’s pool as mere ornaments. The plot is completely at the mercy of the male gaze aesthetic.

Partway through the film Eliza Gomez inexplicably visits a tent in the middle of the desert.  A vacation in Wadi Rum, perhaps? Who knows, but no matter. She is there to acquire the outfit.  A cream and tan safari-type outfit that she wears for days as a hostage, in a jail cell and on the run.  The outfit remains pristine (much like her hair). She is untouchable. Without any flaws or depth of character, she is an accessory. 

Everyone and everything in this film is an accessory. The boys, too, are barely there.  Henry Cavill is a handsome face, but he could be replaced by someone else (someone cool) and the movie would go on just the same. The movie has a shiny, unreal quality that makes it clear you are there to see explosions, and not much else. 

In Bourne there are people who treat humans as accessories.  They are a group of powerful men who believe themselves to be the deciders of the world, of life and death.  The Bourne movies break down the many ways in which they are wrong.

Guy Ritchie made an entire movie on the premise of humans as accessories.  Perhaps this is not what he meant to do, but that is how it reads.  You will not remember the faces of those who died. In his film they barely lived.

Conclusion

Ritchie has done better work with the same actors.  I saw The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and while perhaps not the best film of all time, I did care about the characters and found the drama and interpersonal dynamics to be compelling.  The Gentlemen TV series (I’ve only seen the first season), was shockingly good in character development, comedy and set design.  I watched it multiple times.

Unfortunately, In the Grey is so much wasted potential.  It felt like the director’s mind was somewhere else, just off to the side of the action, only turning back in time to watch the next explosion.

No part of this essay, or any of my writing, is written or edited by AI.

An Apple Tree

In my dream we had an apple tree
Not the crabapple from the yard
No, a tall, majestic tree
Dark red, impossibly large Norwegian apples 

You were teaching us to pick them
High above the ground on ladders
After all, you grew up
on an apple farm

Treesdale
A place I have been only once
But mostly remember as being
“Just over the hill” from Mary’s house

This place of broken promises and dreams
You, the heir, destined as your father 
and his father was before him
to work this land

A dream to serve the man, Mr. Trees 
Custodians of the trees for him
The farm and it’s bounty
The pride of Allegheny County

But this was land you did not own
And so, where once were bees 
And apple trees
Now are nineties homes 

They have a golf course 
And yoga mats
And an apple on the sign
Just one apple, to remember all the trees

You have boxes from the farm
Were they the ones your parents used to move?
Packing up their life
To leave the home and land they loved

My grandpa, Mr. Apple, he so proudly said
I remember him speaking to my class
Little kindergarteners looking up from mats
Listening to his stories of the trees

Every time we visited 
It was apples for dessert 
Apple crisp 
a ritual 

Perhaps it was the smell
Of apples cooking in the house
Or the comfort of holding 
The so-familiar fruit 

You do it still
Slicing apples paper-thin
This food 
a connection to your past

Your new house has persimmon trees
Prolific in their bounty
A lot of work, I think, to manage all the fruit
But perhaps this work makes home for you

Persimmons baked in muffins  
Given out to neighbors 
Who become friends
Trees and their harvest, the essence of life

Monet

I go time and time again
To that same floor 
Of those great halls 
To visit beauty waiting there

That effervescent moment 
Of river and shadow stream
Colors blending in ways 
I could not have
Captured

Sky below and clouds above 
Willow branches reach beneath 
To gaze upon the water
A reflection of itself 

So many times I visited
It feels like you’re a friend
I see you on my wall each day
But know it’s pale shadow
To the real work of art

What was your secret?
Your impression of the world
Displays truth through dreams
Not quite real, not quite there

A closer look does not reveal more 
It only leads to doubt
But stepping back
I see once again your masterpiece

City of Storks

Not yet spring
And your nesting sites
Occupy the town

Alcalá de Henares
Home of Cervantes
And bike paths

And briefly home to me
The storks
Watching over all

Remote in nests
Perched on roofs
And towers

Constant reminder
Of shared spaces
Shared home

Jupiter Rising

All the news is bleak today
The man
Threatens all-consuming war

Why has it come to this?

Heedless of our woes
Planets circle just the same
Jupiter is rising

Brightest twinkle in the sky
Surrounding night is silent
Beyond the reach of sweeping wind

Looking up is looking back
We see the light of times long past
Same planets as the Romans saw

They served as witness to it all.

Seven planets in a line
Have been with us through all our time
Movements never faltering

Despite the rise and fall 
Of kings
Jupiter is rising

Winter

Winter has two faces

The first is jolly
Filled with twinkle lights and holly

Coats and scarves and gloves
Snow-filled trees and turtle doves
Reindeer prancing on the roof
Waking children with their hoof

The second is more bleak
Bitter wind upon your cheek

Twisting snow and biting cold
Memories of warmth grow old
When will spring emerge at last?
Snowbells harken winter’s past

Colonization

The men have said
They go to Mars
To start a new world
Among the stars.

They spread their wings
And fly
Out beyond the 
thinning sky.

But which of them
Within this metal tomb
Brings with him
A living womb?

To start anew with heart and spine
Sinew strong and wandering eye
They all soon fade, the end draws near
Unless someone can go and kill a deer

Or skin a rabbit swift and fleet
Pick up acorns at their feet
Harvest mushrooms from forest floor
Carve a shelter with sturdy door.

Oh, tell me true, rich men of earth
Which one of these things did you birth?
From where does such abundance spring?
Of that woman knows many a thing.

We will not go with you
To stations grand
Soon turned to dust
In your far-off land.

For all the money in the world
You have yet to see
This is the only earth in which we live
It has ever been, Is, Will be.

The very marrow of our bones
Is formed from dust and sea
Our dreams may roam among the stars
But without earth we cannot be.

Dragons

I remember riding through the Spanish countryside 
Bus wheels rumbling, headphones on
The jagged mountains rising up
Thinking, this is a land where dragons lie

It would make sense 
For some enormous creature
To stalk those crevices and valleys 
Waiting through legends and centuries 

It is a land not unfamiliar 
To knights and castles, after all
There are gargoyles and holy saints
Buildings rising up through remnants of the past

Your fabled Cuélebre lives on
If only in imagination 
Perhaps that is why you tried to level
The mighty Sacsayhuamán

Pushing impossibly large boulders
Down the hill to destroy
Their wending royal fortress
Too much an echo of your own repeated stories

The types of creatures lurking 
In the corners of old maps
The world full of unknown dangers 
Though these are not the real threats

After all, I saw the maps you had designed 
Displayed under spotlights in that Sevilla archive
Buenos Aires, Cusco, and more
Their city streets fashioned into grids

Streets where I had been
Only years before
Men in Spain drew lines on maps
People across an ocean forever made to walk their paths

Sacred Valley

It was summer solstice yesterday 
And Peru, I thought of you
This moment marked in stone and light 
Inside your sacred buildings 

Turnings of the world
Recorded
Ancient civilization 
Carved from stone

You bent mountains 
To your will
The very fabric of the ground
Smoothed 

The labor of so many hands
Backs and arms a force
And yet, greater power all around 
Ground shifting under feet

Towering volcano an ever-present possibility 
Daily life in the shadow of giants 
It was there I first realized that man was
Prey

Your sacred animals
Serpent, Puma, Condor
These three carved in stone
Mirror predators of early men

Only one was I fortunate to see
Condors, gliding on the canyon wind
They flew so close, inspecting 
Messengers of the gods

Made beautiful in their freedom of flight

Colca Canyon

The day after Easter I left Arequipa and went on a two-day tour of Colca Canyon.  During this trip I learned about the power and weakness of humanity.  We can permanently change the world around us, but in the end are still at the mercy of forces greater than ourselves.

Colca Canyon

I started out my tour by waiting in front of the tour agency.  After about 30 minutes, I started to realize that a big part of any tour involves waiting.  Because I lived so far from the center of Arequipa, the tour company asked me to wait in front of their offices for the bus to pick me up in the morning.  I was supposed to be there at 7:30 with the promise that the bus would pick me up first.  I arrived at 7:20 just to be safe, and by 8:00 I was worried that the tour company had forgotten me.  When the bus finally pulled around the corner, it was a relief!

We started out by pausing on the outskirts of Arequipa.  I had seen the outer edges of the city during my ride from the airport, but was still shocked by the level of poverty.  Past a certain point there is no running water, electricity, or garbage collection.  Very dirty little children play on or next to piles of trash while stray dogs are search for food in the garbage.  It is not a pretty picture and contrasts starkly with the spectacular mountainous scenery that surrounds the city.

Misti Volcano

We stopped briefly to take photos of the volcanos, to buy cocoa candy at a local store, and to use the bathroom before our long ride.  At this bathroom stop I found out that, for some reason or other, the majority of public toilets do not have seats.  Fortunately I already knew that there would be no toilet paper!

We then began to drive around the mountains that surround Arequipa.  There are checkpoints on the outskirts of the city, I guess to protect the tourists? but our bus ran into a bit of trouble at the first checkpoint.  The driver had all the papers, but his name wasn’t on the company list.  I am pretty sure the police wanted money (I heard them mention 60 soles) but neither the guide or bus driver were willing to pay up.  After about 45 minutes of calling and waiting around, the police finally let us through.

After driving for another hour we made it to the Reserva National where we saw some Peruvian camels.  Yes, you read that correctly.  The animals we commonly know as lamas or alpacas are in fact a type of camel.  There are a total of four different types of camels in Peru.  Only the lama and alpaca are domesticated and none of the camels are strong enough to carry humans.

The Vicuñas

We stopped along the side of the road to look at the wild vicuñas.  They are relatively small compared to lamas and alpacas and are now federally protected.  It is illegal to domesticate the vicuñas and they are only rounded up once a year and sheared by local people.  I got very excited seeing the vicuñas because it was my first time seeing camels outside of a zoo.  Little did I know that these animals cover the countryside of Peru.

Our first actual stop was next to this cliff side that had rock formations that look like houses.  I can’t remember the exact name in Spanish, but I think it is something like Casa de Piedra (House of Stone).  There were also some ladies sitting in a group selling handicrafts.  Like with the lamas, I did not realize at the time that people selling ¨genuine¨ baby alpaca scarf, rugs, gloves and hats practically littered the countryside.  Indeed, at almost every stopping point along the tour there were people calling out to me (and the rest of the tourists) to buy their items for only 30 soles, 20 soles, 5 soles, amiga!  There is always the opportunity to get un discuento!  Seriously, I have no idea how much all of the stuff they are selling really costs.

The rock ¨houses¨ on the side of the mountain.

While we were at this little stopping point, our guide Maria-Elena told us to drink some cocoa tea.  At that point, I did not believe that cocoa tea did any good, so I decided not to have any.  This was the biggest mistake I made during the entire trip.

We continued on driving through the mountains, moving higher and higher above sea level.  By the time we reached the highest point of the trip, I was feeling the pressure.  We got out of the bus to take some photos and to (yet again) look at the handicrafts.  The view was spectacular, but it was difficult to walk without feeling fatigued.  All of the tourists who had stopped there in the past made little piles of rocks.  We then got back on the bus and began our descent down to the Colca Canyon valley.  Here the terraces began.

Rock piles at the highest point of the Colca Canyon tour.

Very few mountains surround Arequipa and there is actually quite a bit of flat land. This means that the people living in Arequipa city did not need to create terraces.  However, in the Colca Canyon area all of the fertile land is located in the mountains.  The basic need to grow crops enough to feed an empire led to the well-known Incan terraces.  The terraces both drastically change the landscape and are integrated back into it.  Because they are natural, they do not seem like something imposed on the land.  The Incas built their terraces in locations where they could irrigate water from the mountain to flow directly to their crops.  These terraces were so well-built that they are still used today.

By the time we finally descended the winding road down to the valley of Colca Canyon it was about 4:00.  I was dropped off at my hotel in the miniscule town of Chivay.  After about an hour I met up with my tour group for the final activity of the day which was at the natural hot springs located in the valley.  I had never been to hot springs before and was pretty excited.  The first thing that greeted me upon entering the hot springs was the smell of rotten eggs (better known as sulfur).  We were advised by our guide not to go into the super-heated hut but to try the pool outside.  After getting in, I realized that the outside pool was definitely hot enough for me.  While in the hot springs I got to know this British girl named Kara.  She was on vacation and traveling alone through Peru.  For me, one of the advantages of traveling with a tour group is that there is the opportunity to connect with different people.  So far, I have been lucky and have made new friends on each and every tour.

The hot-springs pool.

As I mentioned earlier, I was waiting a long time for the bus to pick me up at the start of the tour.  Well, this continued to be a theme throughout the first day.  Everyone was on time except for these four Peruvian people who, I guess, thought that it was OK to be late.  After the checkpoint delay, we really had no time to spare and our guide became very frustrated.  She lectured the entire bus in Spanish and then, at the end of her speech said that she didn’t need to repeat herself in English!  It was seriously one of the funniest moments of the entire trip.  Almost everyone on the bus spoke both Spanish and English, so it was no secret that she was lecturing the Peruvians about their tardiness.  Her words had the desired effect, and after that they were incredibly punctual.

As part of the tour we went out to dinner at a restaurant that included a traditional folk music and dance show.  Up until this point, I was feeling a little odd, but after the second dance number I began to feel seriously ill.  I don’t think I have ever experienced a headache that strong before.  I knew that it was because of the altitude, but I did not have any of my altitude pills along.  For some reason, I was under the impression that after a month in Arequipa I would be just fine.  I was so very wrong.

A cute condor place mat.

I sat at the table, unable to eat with my headache growing more and more fierce with each drumbeat.  I began to feel nauseous and laid my head down on the table.  My friend suggested that I leave the restaurant and head back to my room.  At that point, I was worried about throwing up at the table.  I stumbled out of the restaurant and managed to make it back to my room.  Without changing my clothes, washing my face, or brushing my teeth, I fell face first onto the bed.

The guys who were playing for us. For some reason they picked the shortest guy to play the biggest instrument.

At 3am I woke up without a headache and brushed my teeth.  I had planned to take a shower, especially after the egg-smelling hot springs, but I could not muster the energy.  At 5am I woke up and my headache was just as strong as before.  Fortunately, I did not feel like throwing up, but I was not going to push it by eating breakfast.  I did, however, drink some cocoa tea.  Scarcely ten minutes later I experienced a minor miracle: my headache vanished completely.  For the rest of the tour I drank cocoa tea religiously and was not affected by the altitude!

I went out to the town square to wait for the tour bus at 6:00am.  While there I took some pictures of the local church and then noticed that something strange was going on.  There was this constant stream of people walking back and forth from the central fountain to the local market.  At first I could not understand why they were doing this, until I saw that they were carrying buckets.  The people who worked in the nearby marked were using the free water from the fountain.  The fountain also served as a drinking fountain for the stray dogs who lived in the town.  While I don’t know anyone in the US who would use a public fountain for personal use, people here in Peru are much more thrifty.  If there is a cheaper way to do something, they will find it.

Try and spot the water-carriers!

Our first stop that day was at a little village called Cabanaconde that had a very old church.  There were (of course) people selling stuff to tourists.  Because we were about to head up to the Cruz del Condor there were a lot of very ugly plastic condor figurines for sale.

The road to Cruz del Condor is not paved, nor is it very wide.  In fact, I am sure that when it was built they did not have tour busses in mind.  At times, not all four wheels were on the road.  Donkeys, lamas, alpacas, sheep, and cows roamed onto the road from the mountainside.  Even considering how nerve-wracking the journey was, seeing the condors was worth it!

The beginning of Colca Canyon.

I remember seeing condors in Brookfield Zoo, but they are incredible in the wild.  We were the ones invading their home and they carefully observed all their visitors.  The day I was there about 20 condors were flying around.  There were a lot of people, but it was very quiet.  People were too busy watching and trying to take pictures of the birds to talk.  The condors flew a lot closer to people than I would have expected.  For me, the combination of the scenery and the animals together was incredibly beautiful.  If you ever have the opportunity to visit Arequipa, I strongly recommend traveling to Cruz del Condor.

The condors flew so close!

This was the best and most dangerous view of the condors. Behind me is a sheer cliff.

On the journey back we made several more stops to gaze at terrace-filled landscapes.  Every time I see the terraces I am amazed by the control the Incas had over the land and their submission to the natural geography.  The Incas did not try to destroy the mountainous terrain of Peru, they improved it.