BRIDGE OF SPIES

GRADE: A+
Starring Tom Hanks, Mark Rylance, Amy Ryan, Alan Alda
Screenplay by Matt Charman and Ethan Coen & Joel Coen
Directed by Steven Spielberg
Rated PG-13 (violence, profanity)
Reviewed by Paul & Patrick Gibbs

It's common knowledge that the filmmaker whose work we most eagerly anticipate is Steven Spielberg. To us every new Spielberg film is a major event, bigger than most of our favorite geek franchises. And if Spielberg has been our biggest influence among directors (which he certainly has), the Coen brothers are likely the screenwriters who have influenced us most. To have Ethan and Joel writing a Spielberg film is simply too good to be true. Now we understand how sports fans felt in the early '90s when they saw Magic Johnson passing the ball to Michael Jordan at the Olympics. But Spielberg and the Coens have very different styles, and the question has always been how well they would mesh. And would the Coens distinctive voice survive in Spielberg's hands? The answer to the first question is that they have meshed very well to create an excellent film. The answer to the second is that, as with any Spielberg film, his creative voice is easily the most prominent and apparent. You're never going to confuse Bridge of Spies in style or content with The Big Lebowski. But the Coen's touch is still unmistakable to those fans willing to look for it. This is far and away the best script the brothers have written for another director, and Spielberg and his first-rate cast have brought it to memorable life.

The story begins in 1957, with the capture of suspected Russian spy Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance) after a tense and expertly staged chase which feels like Spielberg's homage to The French Connection.  Abel, a simple and soft-spoken man with a Northern England accent, isn't exactly Boris Badenov, but amidst the tension of the Cold War he instantly becomes the most hated man in America.  Insurance lawyer James B. Donovan (Tom Hanks) is drafted to defend able. While at first reluctant to take on such an unpopular task, Donovan quickly finds his conscience demands it. A firm believer in the constitution who insists "Every person matters," Donovan can't allow Abel to go without the best defense he can give, despite the disapproval from the public, friends and even Donovan's own family. Cold War fear and paranoia runs deep, and we glimpse it from varied points of view, including memorably from Donovan's 10 year old son Roger (Noah Schnapp), who panics after being shown a "duck and cover" cartoon at school featuring every silly 1950s "How to Survive a Nuclear Attack" cliche except climbing inside the refrigerator with Indiana Jones.

It's in this atmosphere that Donovan has to defend Abel, and without ever doing so as overtly as Robert Redford did in The Conspirator, Spielberg is relating this to 21st century debates about fair trials and how constitutional protections apply to a non-citizen who is accused of crimes against the United States. While the film takes a very definite and non-ambiguous stand, the clear War On Terror subtext is subtle and understated. Abel's defense makes up roughly the first half of the film, and it largely rests on the acting of Hanks and Rylance, who are not only excellent individually, but work together with perfect chemistry. Hanks' All-American nice guy role couldn't be called much of a stretch for the beloved actor, which may cause some viewers to wrongly undervalue what he brings to the film in terms of sincerity, emotional gravitas and sheer ability to carry a movie in a way few others can. Hanks causes us to instantly identify with Donovan, and as always he's an actor who makes everyone around him better. Rylance, a stage great just recently becoming familiar to film and television audiences, doesn't really need anyone making him better, and his performance will rightly earn Oscar buzz. Rylance's stage training shows in all of the best possible ways in a performance that uses every tool at an actor's disposal to dig deeply into the character, but at no time does his performance come across as stagey or theatrical. It's a masterpiece of understatement, and it's almost astonishing how much is conveyed in simple looks between the two characters. It's somewhat disappointing to see Amy Ryan and Alan Alda given relatively little to do in their scenes as characters who amount to little more than "The Wife" and "The Boss", but actors of their caliber always add to a film even in minor roles, and Spielberg is wise to keep the focus on Donovan and Abel, the heart and soul of the story.

At the same time that Abel is being tried, American pilot Francis Gary Powers (Austin Stowell) has his U2 spy plane shot down over the Soviet Union (in a harrowing action sequence featuring some dazzling Spielbergian money shots) , and is taken prisoner. A swap of Abel for Powers is soon proposed, and Donovan is asked to broker the exchange, which takes him to Berlin for the second half of the film, and here it remains compelling and also becomes surprisingly tense and even thrilling, considering that Donovan's cloak and dagger exploits consists primarily of negotiating with Russian and East German officials. The negotiations with Russian official Ivan Shischkin (Mikhail Gorevoy) are particularly unsettling, between his Peter Lorre accent and his vaguely ominous way of acting as if he's making this up as he's going along while it's clear he knows exactly what he wants. Stellar work from Spielberg's longtime cinematographer and editor Janusz Kaminsi and Michael Kahn adds immeasurably to the atmosphere, as does the musical score, which for once is by Thomas Newman (usual collaborator John Williams was temporarily sidelined by an illness). The score is a fascinating mix of Newman being Newman (especially in the moving end credits theme) and Newman being Williams. Every patriotic swell to punctuate a dramatic moment sounds as if the composer is thinking to himself "WWJWD?" or more likely Spielberg was was whispering it in his ear, as whether it feels like you're hearing Williams or Newman, the dominant voice of the soundtrack is clearly Spielberg, who knows what he likes and is clearly getting it. It's an effective and dramatic score that's good enough to own and listen to, but it's a little hard not to wonder what Newman would have done without the the specter of Williams hanging over him. But if the second half of the film has an MVP, it's Hanks. Without him as the anchor it wouldn't be nearly as compelling and powerful. This is the modern day Jimmy Stewart version of Tom Hanks we remember so well from his classic '90s performances, and he still does it as well as ever. Hanks manages to simultaneously convey an everyman relatability and a idealism that never feels forced or corny, and whatever he feels we feel. For all the strength of it's other excellent parts Bridge of Spies would come crashing down with anyone other than Hanks at it's center, and for that reason it's an Oscar caliber performance whether it feels especially new or not.

 While the period piece espionage atmosphere occasionally brings to mind Spielberg's Munich, that was a much less overtly uplifting and more morally ambiguous film. Bridge of Spies feels like Spielberg following Lincoln with a film that is similarly character and dialogue oriented, and deals with many of the same themes: integrity, the U.S. constitution, and human worth. Donovan, like Lincoln (and like so many Spielberg protagonists before him) is a man of moral courage trying to do what's right while large forces pull him in different directions. Like Lincoln, Bridge of Spies benefits from a complex view of those different forces, but in the end has the moral certainty and sentimentality of Spielberg. As always, that can be a plus or a minus depending on your point of view. For us Bridge of Spies is a tense, compelling and ultimately moving story about the importance of being true to who you are and doing what's right. And it's ably told by the best storytellers in the business.