Denzel Washington Saves “Safe House”

Denzel Washington Saves “Safe House” February 10, 2012

If there’s a mantra for Hollywood, it should be “Leave it to Denzel.”

The man can act and he can carry a movie that, in itself, is just mediocre.

I speak, of course, of the new spy thriller “Safe House” in which Denzel Washington plays the improbably named Tobin Frost, a legendary former CIA operative gone rogue.  When he walks into the US Consulate in South Africa, obsentially to turn himself in, it falls to newby spook Matt Weston (Ryan Reynolds) to provide the safe house that will shelter Frost until he can be ushered back to the U S of A.

Things, as so often seems to be the case in the shadowy world of the CIA, go terribly wrong and Weston finds himself the lone representative of the United States government tasked with bringing Frost to justice. Not only must he keep the potential fugitive secure at all times, but he must do so while fighting a never-ending stream of nefarious bad guys who want Frost’s head as much as the United States government does.

With this type of CIA story, however, the viewer is never sure who the good guys are or who the bad guys might be. There is a sickness within the CIA, movies like “Safe House” repeatedly tell us, a sickness that leads spies to the dark side, betray their compatriots, and cynically give up on the agency as hopelessly flawed.

Essentially unsettled about spy agencies since the Cold War, Hollywood again raises the same discomfort it so regularly expresses about any covert operations. Who watches the watchers? It’s as if there aren’t actually any terrorist or enemies of America to catch. The threat is all just illusion, fear-mongering to create power.  Added to this oft-repeated tale, the movie early-on presents water-boarding as an unspeakable crime, although the portrayal in the film looks infinitely preferable to the real torture thugs in other countries visit on their people.

But I digress. The movie is not largely political and these attitudes are more of a backdrop to the central action theme than a real statement. They’re the unquestioned assumptions in which the film operates.

The real meat is fighting: Gun battles played out over metal slum rooftops, dragged-out murderous fistfights, cars bashing each other to smithereens. These scenes of brutal, hard-hitting action are interspersed with moments in which Frost and Weston look into each other’s souls.

With any other actors, this formulaic and familiar story would be a lesson in mediocracy. However, Washington plays an ambiguous and believably lethal spy with unsettling skill. Reynolds projects determination and confusion in equal measures. Together they make up for the originality the film lacks – barely.

By the end of the movie, both Reynolds and Washington are sufficiently thrashed, limping to a conclusion that satisfies, although also annoys with just a tad bit too much drama.

Score: B

Rated R for excessive violence and language.

 


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