Red Sparrow (2018) (In Hindi)

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Director: Francis Lawrence

Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Joel Edgerton, Matthias Schoenaerts, Charlotte Rampling

Genre: Drama, Mystery, Thriller

Released on: 02 Mar 2018

Writer: Justin Haythe (screenplay by), Jason Matthews (based upon the book by)

IMDB Rating: 6.8/10 (34,976 Votes)

Duration: 140 min

Synopsis: Ballerina Dominika Egorova is recruited to ‘Sparrow School,’ a Russian intelligence service where she is forced to use her body as a weapon. Her first mission, targeting a C.I.A. agent, threatens to unravel the security of both nations.
 thinking goes—and the fact largely is—that the six (perhaps soon to be five) major studios don’t put out mid-budget movies geared toward adults anymore. It’s all animated sequels and franchise movies broad and bland enough to appeal to big foreign markets. So when the rare one comes along—like Francis Lawrence’s spy thriller, Red Sparrow, out from Fox on March 2—those of us clamoring for some glossy, sophisticated entertainment really want it to be good. But maybe we’re putting too much burden on these endangered creatures, smothering them with all our desperate expectation. I think Red Sparrow might suffer that fate; when you’re looking for great, just fine starts to seem bad.

Or something. My point is, Red Sparrow is perfectly O.K., a handsomely mounted espionage drama that never really gets the blood up but proves to be passable, if graphic, entertainment here in the doldrums of late winter. Sure, I wish it were better, but I’ll take what I can get. (And, really, the fact that a $69 million movie would qualify as mid-budget is sort of insane.) Based on Jason Matthews’s novel, Red Sparrow is at its best when it lets itself be a little playful. Which doesn’t happen much. Most of the film is a dour, self-serious wallow—though not an unworthy one.
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There’s a lot of torture in this movie, and a good deal of rape and sexual assault. If all that doesn’t sound like a barrel of laughs, you’re right; it’s not. But Red Sparrow isn’t a miserabilist, sadistic movie. Lawrence (that’s Lawrence the director, not star Jennifer Lawrence) skirts the edges of the world of cruel, leering exploitation, but doesn’t go all the way. The film stays sober and clear-eyed, showing us all this unflinching violence not to titillate, I don’t think, but to alarm. Though alarm is titillation for some, isn’t it? And Red Sparrow certainly has its gaze aimed squarely at its heroine’s sexuality. The movie is predicated on it. So it’s hard to argue that Lawrence the director isn’t trying to stir up a particular kind of mood—for a portion of his audience, at least.

Maybe Red Sparrow is nothing more than torture-and-abuse porn given a classy polish after all. It’s possible I’m just not watching it incisively enough. But to me, the film reads as a bit more respectable than that—even a bit stuffier. This isn’t, say, Paul Verhoeven’s Red Sparrow, which I expect would generate a lot more controversy.

As is, Red Sparrow is a stately B-movie, enlivened by committed performances and striped with florid streaks of brutality. Lawrence the actress plays Dominika, a Bolshoi ballerina who suffers a terrible injury and is coerced into a new career as a sort of sex spy by her slippery government agent uncle, Vanya. (He’s played by Matthias Schoenaerts, and yes, he really is called Uncle Vanya.) We see Dominika’s intense training, led by a questionably accented Charlotte Rampling, as Dominika learns to use sex and desire as a weapon, exploiting people’s weaknesses and wants to extract information. But when her first assignment doesn’t go as planned, Dominika finds herself in a game of double and triple and even quadruple crosses, fighting to fulfill her mission—whatever that may actually be.

Which could make for a twisty, capery little thriller. But Red Sparrow is interested in heavier things, exploring themes of trust and duty and identity. These inquests don’t really yield any revelatory insights, but they give the movie a sort of prestige heft that is rare for the season.

None of this intensity would work if Lawrence (the actress) wasn’t selling it so well. While she too has a wobbly accent (everyone does; just go with it), she’s otherwise firmly in command of the picture, even in scenes when Dominika is captive and subjected to horrible things. She taps into some of that Winter’s Bone resolve and resourcefulness—though Dominika is miles away from Ree Dolly, both young women have a flitiness that doesn’t so much mask hurt and anguish as feed off of it, jiu-jitsuing pain into outward strength. I suppose that was true of Katniss Everdeen as well—Lawrence directed Lawrence in three of the Hunger Games films—but Dominika has more shaded motives than the girl from District 12. She is from Russia, after all.

I like Lawrence’s performance best when she actually gets to do some spy stuff, like in a centerpiece scene that feels flown in from a different movie, in which Dominika cultivates a boozy senatorial staffer played by Mary-Louise Parker (making the absolute most of a little). Here, Red Sparrow shows us a Dominika who’s a smooth pro, a mode I wish we saw her in more often. She’s so often being victimized—by marks, by her fellow Russians—that we don’t really get to enjoy watching her do what she’s been so rigorously trained to do. I wanted to see Dominika succeed, but Red Sparrow’s world (and maybe our world) is intent on punishing her.

Red Sparrow’s deceptively simple knot of intrigue—it involves a hunt for a mole in the Russian intelligence apparatus—holds our attention, even though the film stretches to an almost ungainly 140 minutes. (Part of wanting adult-oriented movies is learning to live with long movies, folks.) Lawrence enjoys some chemistry with her co-star Joel Edgerton, playing an American operative who’s onto Dominika’s deceptions. But just how onto them? That becomes one of the movie’s central questions. Red Sparrow spends a lot of time bouncing back and forth to the rhythm of “but does she know that he knows that she knows that he knows,” which quickly gets too repetitive and saps the movie of its stakes. If no one can fool anyone, then what are we all doing here?

Do you want to hear about the sex and violence, and the film’s frequent commingling of the two? Probably, as that’s certainly what the movie’s been marketed on. And, yes, it’s all there: the nudity, the torture, the shower scene. One particularly long interrogation sequence is almost operatically visceral: blunt and intimate and, worst of all, credible. There’s a brief but harrowing rape scene that is maybe the movie’s most direct courting of the problematic, ending in a bloody mess reminiscent of a particular scene in Gone Girl. But for all that—which is not to dismiss the severity or weight of these scenes, especially the ones of sexual assault—Red Sparrow feels oddly subdued by certain movie terms. It’s not an action movie by any means, and those expecting Atomic Blonde, with its mix of crunching violence and lurid innuendo, will be disappointed.

I expect this adult thriller for adults won’t do well in audience polling. It so steadfastly maintains its solemn rigor that it never generates much heat, despite the fact that it features Jennifer Lawrence doing a nude fight scene and all that. Which is a shame, because again, we want more movies like this. Or, maybe not like this—we could use fewer stories about the abuse and objectification of women told by men—but more movies that are similarly proportioned. There’s more than a glimmer of something engaging in Red Sparrow—a grim, sorrowful thriller with a keenly rendered texture—but the film gets tripped up as it both resists classification and invites all of it in. Is it a nasty little B-movie thriller or a somber and arty character study? A major star top-lined butt-kicking flick or a small showcase for an actress trying to assert herself into more adult roles?

Red Sparrow can’t figure that out, or refuses to figure it out, and loses itself in that ambivalence. It’s a funny irony, I suppose, that this movie born of the too-sparsely populated middle range ultimately seems so uncomfortable dwelling between its poles.After Jennifer Lawrence first stepped into the limelight with her performance as Katniss Everdeen in “The Hunger Games,” it seemed that she could do no wrong, as she went on to garner praise for her roles in “American Hustle,” “Silver Linings Playbook,” and “Joy.” However, Lawrence’s most recent roles have prompted a divided critical response,and her latest film, “Red Sparrow,” keeps in line with that trend.

“Red Sparrow,” helmed by “Hunger Games” director Francis Lawrence, is based on a bestselling novel by former CIA operative Jason Matthews. Lawrence stars as Dominika Egorova, a Russian ballerina turned spy, who uses her sexuality to manipulate her targets.  The film opts for a different route than the action-driven spy thrillers of recent history, like “Salt” and “Atomic Blonde.” Instead, “Red Sparrow” emphasizes its dialogue and twisting plot.  While early reception to the film among critics has been mixed, Lawrence’s performance has been consistently viewed as one of the film’s strong points.

In his review for Variety, Owen Gleiberman praised Lawrence’s acting abilities, writing, ” Lawrence, in this movie, shows you what true screen stardom is all about. She cues each scene to a different mood, leaving the audience in a dangling state of discovery. We’re on her side, but more than that we’re in her head. Even when (of course) we’re being played.” “Red Sparrow” hits theaters on March 2. Read some highlights of what the critics are saying below:

Variety‘s Owen Gleiberman:
“For the first time in a long while, a thriller revives Cold War tensions in a way that doesn’t feel corny, since the Russians, in ‘Red Sparrow,’ are standing in for the new world order: a global marketplace of people selling themselves. It’s no wonder spying is trickier than ever. With a century of espionage to draw upon, even the most undercover impulses are now out in the open.”

The Wrap’s Alonso Duralde:
“Neither intelligent enough to be involving nor fun enough to be trashy, this is a movie that would only work if it were a little worse or a lot better. ‘Red Sparrow’ is the sort of sumptuous, globe-trotting production that takes us to the Bolshoi, Budapest and London — not to mention the aforementioned “whore school,” where would-be spies are trained to be both deadly and seductive — but it’s the sort of listless affair where it’s easy to tune out and start noticing locations from other movies.”

The Guardian’s Benjamin Lee:
There’s an uncomfortable dissonance running throughout that results in a shifting, unsure tone and one wonders what film could have resulted from a steadier, yet wilder, hand (Brian De Palma would have had endless fun with it). The direction feels flat and passionless at times and while there are some impressive panoramic vistas, other stuffier scenes are so overly, clumsily lit that they’re clearly taking place on a set.

Independent’s Christopher Hooton:
“I wonder if Lawrence felt similarly indebted to her ‘Hunger Games’ director Francis Lawrence to make this movie, which seems to exist for little purpose other than to show her naked in as many ways as contractually obligable…A light and enjoyable thriller was probably on the cutting room floor here, but what ended up in theatres is a very long, straight-faced and weirdly morbid drama, that tries to make up for itself with some pretty extreme and nauseating violence.”

Indiewire’s Eric Kohn:
“The elegance of Francis Lawrence’s direction, cinematographer Jo Willems’ measured camerawork, and James Newton Howard’s ominous score adheres to a familiar set of beats, but it’s the rare big Hollywood mood piece and mostly satisfying on those terms. With so many solid ingredients, it’s unfortunate that ‘Red Sparrow’ doesn’t know when to stop, sagging into bland torture scenes and an underwhelming final showdown in its concluding act.”

Screencrush’s Matt Singer:
“I liked Lawrence a lot, and ‘Red Sparrow’s’ ending does deliver on the shocking revelations it’s promised. (It also leaves things wide open for a sequel, because of course it does.) But I also left the theater feeling like ‘Red Sparrow’ was missing something, that spark of the ineffable that separates a competent movie from an exceptional one, or makes you rush out to see a new version of an old concept instead of rewatching classics…There’s a sense throughout that everyone here is like Dominika when she’s forced to become a sparrow: Just going through the motions.”

Time Out’s Tomris Laffly:
“With its highbrow ‘Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy’–like ambitions unrealized, ‘Red Sparrow’ ultimately plays a lot simpler than it initially suggests, even if a cathartic conclusion rewards the patience of those with tough constitutions.”

AV Club’s Jesse Hassenger:
“A lavishly costumed, location-enhanced thriller, ‘Red Sparrow’ carries itself along briskly enough (even with a 139-minute running time, the most indulgent thing about it), but it’s never especially brain-twisting or nerve-wracking.”
Story: A career-ending accident leaves ballerina Domenika Egorova (Jennifer
Lawrence) with no choice. She is coerced into taking up her uncle’s sordid offer to support her ailing mother. The dancer becomes a ‘sparrow’, a Russian seductress-spy, who must sexually manipulate her targets to win their trust and source secret information for her country.

Review: One of her assignments expects her to befriend Nash, a CIA agent (Joel Edgerton), who can further lead her to a mole in the Russian intelligence service. However, things get tricky when she falls for Nash and he persuades her to become a double agent.

Based on a spy novel by Jason Matthews, Red Sparrow is a gripping but somewhat pointless thriller that overrates its own intelligence. Francis Lawrence and his star protagonist, lend a strange beauty to this obnoxiously bizarre film that feeds on violence and assault. An air of mystery surrounds every character and their intentions, which ups the intrigue and paranoia.

However, without any substantial gains at stake, Domenika’s ‘sexual sacrifices’ and manipulative games seem inconsequential. Even the sparrow training programme or in JLaw’s own words (whore school) which expects her to endure the perverse and sadistic activities, ends up looking dim-witted instead of dangerous. You chuckle when the instructor tells the new recruits in a stern voice, “Your body belongs to the state now.”

A torture porn with the sensibility of a 50 Shades… like erotic fantasy, Red Sparrow fails to take flight as the chilling spy thriller, you’d expect it to be. Even a decent climax is unable to salvage a sluggish buildup. Jennifer Lawrence’s terrible Russian accent and deadpan act, don’t help either.

Despite the genre and an attractive cast, the film’s mind games are way too tiring and uninspiring to arouse any emotions or thrill.
 'Hunger Games' vet Francis Lawrence reteams with star Jennifer Lawrence for a film about Russian sex spies.

A sex-and-spycraft yarn built for Cold War 2.0 — despite displaying next to no awareness of current tech, arguably this cold war's defining ingredient — Francis Lawrence's Red Sparrow sometimes seems to target the sort of Jennifer Lawrence fan who feels the recent Mother! didn't pay sufficient attention to the star's lightly clothed curves. What would a spy flick be without the male gaze? Well, it'd be something like John Le Carre — which this film, despite its focus on the strategic acquisition of foreign assets, definitely is not. Striking a sometimes uneasy balance between trust-no-one espionage and sensationalism, Sparrow seems likely to attract a fairly large audience but leave few moviegoers fully satisfied.

Based on the novel of the same name by former CIA operative Jason Matthews (a book whose depiction of spy-station dialogue inspired Langley's own book review to rave, "This is how it sounds, this is how it is done"), Justin Haythe's script tosses big chunks of the book out, despite the film's epic length. Gone is the emphasis on its heroine's synesthesia, in which she reads her targets' personalities as if they were color-coded; gone is the nitty-gritty of evasive street work. And while the novel was so attentive to its characters' diets that it ended every chapter with a recipe, the film has perhaps one shot of a character feeding herself, and it isn't appetizing.

Instead, Haythe and Lawrence hone in on a (presumably fictional) "Sparrow" program, in which young and attractive recruits of the Russian intelligence service, the SVR, go to school solely to be trained in the ways of seduction. Here, school's in session with a stern Charlotte Rampling educating both men and women. "Every human being is a puzzle of need," she tells them, insisting that knowing how to fill that unseen need will enable an operative to extract secrets and favors from foreign targets.
Jennifer Lawrence's Dominika Egorova, a star ballerina whose career is destroyed by a gruesome onstage accident, gets sent to Sparrow School by her uncle Vanya (Matthias Schoenaerts), a handsy sleaze who ranks high in the SVR. What uncle would send his niece to such a camp? The question is asked several times here, but more puzzling is why Dominika would go. Long story short, she thinks she's agreeing to a one-night stand of seduce-and-betray action so that Vanya will support her sick mother; when that night turns into an assassination, Vanya says she knows too much and will be killed if she doesn't go full-time.

After her somewhat intriguing stint at school, where students are forced to become unsentimental about their bodies and do what they're told with them ("Your body belongs to the state"), Dominika gets an assignment. Nate Nash (Joel Edgerton) is a CIA man who had to flee Russia after he's nearly caught meeting a high-level Russian intelligence officer feeding the Americans secrets. He's in Budapest now, and Dominika is to go there, win his trust and learn the identity of his mole.

Dominika, who until this point has radiated the kind of better-than-this defiance one expects from a ballerina asked to screw gross guys for her country, now slides into survival mode — doing what is demanded of her, but clearly looking for the angles that might make her something like a free agent again. One is tempted to draw parallels between the character and Lawrence herself, who performs unimpeachably here but is better than the material.

Though she and Edgerton have adequate chemistry onscreen, the screenplay fumbles any heat it might have generated as the characters try to deceive and woo each other simultaneously. The cat's out of the bag nearly from the start, but Dominika and Nate still have to do-si-do a bit before they can actually start working together against the Ruskies. Dominika gets into some trouble with her Hungarian roommate and the leering bureaucrat assigned to monitor her work, then contrives a way to solve her problems: She'll intercept the chief of staff of an American senator, who has been planning to sell state secrets to Russia for a quarter-million dollars.

Mary-Louise Parker, as the American traitor, brings a welcome (and intoxicated) screw-'em-all attitude to her short sequence. But what the hell is up with those secrets? For reasons that are never hinted at, the information she's selling comes on a stack of six 3.5-inch floppy discs. That's right, kids: You can't even get a MacBook with a DVD drive anymore, but the sexiest spies in the world are evidently toting physical-media hardware that was obsolete sometime in the last century. (For those who never had to use the things, those discs would all together hold under 9 megabytes of data. The Lyft iPhone app is well over 100 megs; presumably, America's military satellite schematics are slightly more than that.)

Dominika and Nate enjoy something less than full success on this first assignment together, but in deference to the film's producers (whose "please no spoilers" letter to critics suggests they think the film is more surprising than it is), let's stop the synopsis here. It must be noted, though, that in a climactic action scene, the filmmakers require Dominika to do something very stupid and very implausible — not fun, spy-action implausible, but the head-smacking, "come on!" variety — so that a bad guy will live long enough to start a three-person stiletto battle.

The movie gets enough right (thanks largely to its top-shelf cast, which also includes Jeremy Irons and Ciaran Hinds on the SVR side) that a blatant cheat like that is galling — especially since it arrives well after the pic has abandoned the prurience it used to get the raincoat crowd in the door. (Its themes and occasional ogling aside, this is not a very sexy film.) Given current geopolitical realities, we're probably due for a big wave of Russophobic genre cinema. Red Sparrow helps get the ball rolling, but here's hoping we see better before Putin & Co's devastating use of social media makes all this one-on-one spycraft seem laughably quaint.

Production companies: Film Rites, Chernin Entertainment
Distributor: Twentieth Century Fox
Cast: Jenifer Lawrence, Joel Edgerton, Matthias Schoenaerts, Jeremy Irons, Mary-Louise Parker, Charlotte Rampling, Ciaran Hinds
Director: Francis Lawrence
Screenwriter: Justin Haythe
Producers: Peter Chernin, Steve Zaillian, Jenno Topping, David Ready
Executive producers: Garrett Basch, Mary McLaglen
Director of photography: Jo Willems
Production designer: Maria Djurkovic
Costume designer: Trish Summerville
Editor: Alan Edward Bell
Composer: James Newton Howard
Casting directors: Denise Chamian, Zsolt Csutak

Rated R, 139 minutes



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