Ronin
Even when made by American filmmakers, political thrillers just have a different vibe when they are made in Europe. The recent successes like the “Bourne” films, Daniel Craig’s Bond films, and Ron Howard’s “Da Vinci Code” have shown that audiences are ready for something fresher than your average action movie. That’s part of why I’ve always had a soft spot for John Frankenheimer’s “Ronin.” Well, also because it’s really damn cool.
What first grabs you about “Ronin” is the music. So sad, so unlike anything we’re used to hearing from this genre. The duduk- an old world instrument also used on the scores for “The Crow” and “Gladiator”- sets the tone for the film, for the characters. Composed by Elia Cmiral- who hasn’t gotten enough major film work since this score- the music drives the actions of the characters and the suspense of the action. He seems to understand the Warrior code Jean-Pierre- an old friend of Frenchman Vincent (Jean Reno)- talks about when discussing the 47 Ronin, samurai whose masters were betrayed by another. They then wandered the land, masterless, taking work as mercenaries until they’re opportunity for revenge came along.
An apt metaphor for the world of “Ronin” as defined by screenwriter J.D. Zeik (with Richard Weisz- a pseudonym taken by David Mamet- adding a lot of bite to the dialogue) and Frankenheimer, whose direction recalls the smart and sly mastery of his ’60s classics “The Manchurian Candidate” and “Seconds.” Populated by Cold Warriors without a war to fight, hired by a mysterious man looking to retrieve a case, the the world the characters in “Ronin” live in is a world where they’re kind walk the Earth, looking for opportunity wherever it presents itself.
For “Sam” (Robert DeNiro)- a former CIA man- that journey has led him to Paris, where an Irish handler named Deirdre (Natascha McElhone) has assembled him, Vincent, Larry (a driver played by Skipp Sudduth), Spence (a weapons man played by Sean Bean), and Gregor (Stellan Skarsgard is the techno-savvy ex-KGB expert) to get the forementioned case before it’s sold to the Russians. What’s in the case? We never find out and it doesn’t matter. It’s a classic Hitchcockian McGuffin- it’s something everyone wants, and that’s all that matters.
What matters most to me when it comes to “Ronin” is the way everything falls into place to deliver top-notch entertainment. The cast- led by DeNiro and Reno (both in top form)- doesn’t ask that Zeik’s script make sense so long as it keeps the story moving at a breakneck pace. We should do the same, especially with Frankenheimer and his collaborators (in particular, cinematographer Robert Fraisse and editor Tony Gibbs) keeping the action crisp and exciting, whether it’s a chase on foot at an amphitheater or on wheels in a couple of the most thrilling car chases ever put on film (even the “Bourne” films have a hard time keeping up in comparison). Anyone with an interest in shooting action sequences should take note- this is how you do it. Lay out the geography, keep things logical without losing sight of common sense.
Most importantly, establish a connection with the characters. While all of these characters are basically mercenaries for hire, they’re also real people- we can still question their moral code without losing sight of the philosophy that drives them to act as they do. This is why the opening title cards, and the mid-film scene with Jean-Pierre and Sam, are so important to the fabric of the film. By comparing his modern characters without a master to the ancient traditions of the Ronin, Frankenheimer allows us to sympathize with characters who would otherwise not deserve our sympathy. To do it with such a light touch, almost invisible in how well he succeeds, is a testament to his gifts as a filmmaker. Let’s just try and forget the films he made right before (the disastrous “The Island of Dr. Moreau” with a ham-handed Brando in Kabuki makeup) and after (the Ben Affleck thriller “Reindeer Games”- not as bad as its’ rep but not as good as Frankenheimer’s), and allow the late filmmaker (who passed away in 2002) this one moment of contentment with his passion, much like he does his characters in this film.
