Category: Luc Besson

LUCY

By Marc S. Sanders

Only the headlining actors’ names appear before the title of the film, Lucy, but ten minutes into it I should have known I was watching a Luc Besson actioner.  It’s over the top and proudly exaggerated in its fiction like Leon: The Professional or The Fifth Element.  Because this one has Scarlett Johansson and Morgan Freeman talking about science fiction silliness in a brainy kind of way, Lucy is a lot of fun and likely better than those other two Besson flicks.  Just don’t try to comprehend the tech it preaches.  It’s important to remember that Luc Besson wrote it.  So why try in the first place?

Spliced within the first ten minutes of this hour and a half is nature documentary footage of wildlife in the open and nucleus cells splitting apart and coming together and whatever else cells do.  Most memorable is a cheetah pursuing a losing gazelle.  The story however focuses on young Lucy (Johansson), with her blonde crop topped hair suggestively hiding her left eye with a leopard print jacket hanging on her shoulders.  I got the impression that Lucy is a woman of the night in whatever Asian metropolitan city we are in.  I think Taiwan, but the bad guys speak Korean.  

A cad named Frank coaxes Lucy against her will into delivering a locked, aluminum briefcase to a high-rise apartment.  What’s in the case?  Well, isn’t that the go to starting point of so many movies these days? Whatever it is, it gets Frank killed right in front of Lucy.

But wait!!!! We actually get to see what’s in the case, this time.  Four bags of drugs that look like purple pop rock candies.  

A Korean mobster and his army of black suit/black tie cronies (surprised?) force Lucy and three men to be mules for the drugs and make deliveries.  I wasn’t clear on who the buyers are supposed to be.  It doesn’t matter, because poor, helpless Lucy gets to the airport only to get beaten up, forcing the bag of drugs to rupture and leak within her stomach.  

Besson initially showed us the figure of 10%.  Now, throughout the course of the picture that number will climb because Lucy’s brain capabilities are increasing rapidly as she is mobilized with cerebral powers that normal humans could never accomplish.  Apparently these chemicals are byproducts of the hormones that a pre-born embryo experiences allowing it to grow and develop into a fully functional human.  See, we’ve all gotten what Lucy’s gotten, but we’ve never gotten as much as what Lucy’s gotten.  So look out everyone.  Lucy is not coming to The Matrix.  The Matrix is coming to her.  

Morgan Freeman is the renowned Professor Norman, the world’s leading expert on brain activity.  He’s in Paris delivering a lecture on the theory that humans only use a fraction of their brain power to function.  In fact he claims that the sonar capabilities found in dolphins makes them much more advanced than any of us.  I nominate Flipper for President. We couldn’t get much worse.

With the Korean mob on her tail, Lucy goes after the other three mules located in Rome, Paris and Berlin, and recruits a French detective (Amr Waked) to assist her.  He doesn’t do much though.  

Lucy also makes contact with Professor Norman.  Sure she uses the phone to dial him up, but that’s not the only way she talks to him.  Just wait’ll you see.  And wait til you see how she takes on the mob who carry an armory of machine guns and an endless supply of ammo.  Let’s just say the Avengers and the X-Men don’t stand a chance against Lucy.

Morgan Freeman is not doing anything new here.  The script simply demands a wizened expert to intelligently deliver sci fi gibberish like it came out of Johns Hopkins.  Scarlett Johansson is an action star, no doubt.  At least, Lucy’s quick adaptations to her super powers stand apart from her Black Widow invincibility.  I like how she’s a lovey dovey airhead in the prologue of Besson’s movie and then evolves into a kind of walking bad ass super computer once the drugs kick in gradually doing more of their magic on her.

The ending gets really out there.  I never gave up on the movie, but I didn’t care to think through everything I was looking at.  Judging by Morgan Freeman’s face, neither was he.  He just wore the doctor’s coat.  Besson goes all over the place with wrapping up this short story, designed to be a graphic manga novel. 

The cuts and edits are exhilarating and thankfully Lucy spares us of just endless hand to hand combat stuff, like John Wick.  This movie relies more on superpower material trickery.  Still, it really gets out there.  Like out there to other places.  Like out there to other periods of time.

If Stanley Kubrick were to make an action movie…

Look, at least I bought into all of it because frankly if I’d used any more than 10% of my brain, I’d likely tear the whole movie apart.

THE PROFESSIONAL (Léon)

By Marc S. Sanders

The cult following that has come with Luc Besson’s first American made film seems unwarranted to me.  It’s currently listed as number 40 on IMDB’s top 250. I have no idea why. I recognize the artistic style of the picture, but what is here to relish beyond an enlightening introductory performance from would be Oscar winner Natalie Portman?

To watch Besson’s use of the camera makes me feel like a viewer from the director’s native France.  The setting is Little Italy, New York and it has a feel to it like Besson just stepped off the plane and decided to hone his lens on a condensed city section, but lacking an education of its culture or history.  The Professional certainly doesn’t look or feel like Dog Day Afternoon, When Harry Met Sally…, or Die Hard With A Vengeance.  (Perhaps the music from Éric Serra altered my mood.)  I never took issue with this aspect of the movie. It is unfortunate however that Besson’s film comes off too perverse in its storytelling, especially with its character blend.

Portman is Mathilda, a spunky kid who survives the murder of her family when a corrupt, drug dealing DEA agent named Stansfield (a way over the top Gary Oldman) carries out the slaughter after her father fails to pay a debt.  Fortunately, as Mathilda is returning home and coming upon the bloody aftermath, Stansfield and his crony of killers opt not to take her out too as they believe she belongs with the occupant of her neighboring apartment.  Léon lives there and happens to be a skillful hitman and weapons expert who pulls Mathilda inside to safety.  He’s played by Jean Reno.  These killers who massacre by day have no care to eliminate the other tenants living on the same floor, including a little old lady.  Why?  I don’t know.  Maybe they called in sick on the day assassination school covered “Chapter 6: Leave No Witnesses.”

Besson does not apply much brainpower to the script he wrote and directed.  Oldman’s characterization could not be more obvious with how unhinged he behaves.  His department colleagues who take less than a minute and a half to question him don’t even raise an eyebrow.  While the storyline can be dismissed as a pulpy kind of graphic novel come to life, isn’t it lucky that if your family is going to get shot up, you have a professional hitman living right next door? I mean c’mon.  This is only the set-up of the picture, within the first ten minutes, and my suspension of disbelief never arrived.  

The most egregious lack of consideration falls within the relationship between Reno and Portman’s characters though.  She’s twelve.  He’s in his late thirties or early forties, but his silence implies it is time for assisted living.  When they are not relocating from apartment to apartment, trying to stay out of sight of Oldman’s gang, they are valuing the life of Léon’s beloved plant, drinking milk and demonstrating the fine art of sniper operations.  That’s fine – it’s the stuff of Tarantino fare.  

However, when the pair decide to entertain each other with Portman doing routines of Madonna and Chaplin for play fun, there’s a cringey temperature to the picture.  Besson was seeking out a relationship between a random man and child without any element of sexual proclivities involved and yet, it’s there.  In another writer/director’s hands, there would have been a stronger attempt to develop a paternal relationship between the two characters.  Yet, Natalie Portman doing a childlike song and dance performance of “Like A Virgin,” with Jean Reno’s Léon acting unaware seems artificial and perversely moving in the wrong direction.  When danger crosses their path later and they both say “I love you” to one another, I can’t help but question how this bond might have turned out if they were never forced to separate and save themselves from the bad guys while continuing to live a quiet life with a house plant and gallons of milk.

The final third of The Professional has the inevitable shootout and explosions.  Out of context, it looks good but again this is New York.  So, when Stansfield brings in the firepower of the entire city police to force Léon and Mathilda out of the tenement building, shouldn’t someone be questioning someone?  Anyone? It’s ridiculous.  None of the neighbors run for cover or are given warnings to divert away as a small rocket launcher is propped up for blasting the front door open, along with anyone inside.  

The Professional contains a boring, inappropriate middle section accompanied with a ridiculous opening and ending.  Therefore, I have trouble locating the merits for this piece.  I can recognize the potential of Natalie Portman in her performance.  Yet, if this were the first film I ever saw Gary Oldman in, I might not be so prone to watching anything by this best of the best character actors.  “EVERYONE!!!!” he screams, shouts, screeches, and bellows all at the same time.  Whether you’ve seen the film or not, most cinephiles relish in that sound byte from him on social media. I’d argue it’s in no way a salute to the actor.  Frankly, it’s indicative of the material when a guy as accomplished as Gary Oldman cannot uncover enough of a quirk in a bad guy from a very unimaginative script.  It’s not your fault Gary, so much as it is Mr. Besson’s.

Jean Reno has a cool looking, silent poise to Léon, the professional hitman, but there’s nothing lent to him to work with except a pair of opaque, circular sunglasses, milk, a plant and at least as many guns and ammo as found in The Matrix.  Reno functions on little dialogue and no background save for a few scenes he shares with Danny Aiello as the mob boss who frequently hires him for jobs.  Reno’s scenes with Natalie Portman only demonstrate how inappropriate their connection as actors in a scene are, as well as how their characters are supposed to serve each other. 

The faults of The Professional ultimately lie with its puppet master, Luc Besson.