Bourne Ultimatum: what a fucking load of bollocks that turned out to be. The first part of the movie is excellent (lovely building-up, making full use of the lack of privacy anxiety), but then the climaxes start: I’m surprised you could stomach those, to me it felt as if Michael Bay and Jerry Bruckheimer had kidnapped Paul Greengrass and taken over control. Honestly, the part where Bourne ‘noticed’ (no, he never could) the little step so he could escape via the stairs was when the movie became pathetic to me. (Followed by the godawful overlong car crash sequence and the stretched rooftop sequence).
This movie is the embodiment of the toddler who shouts “Look mommy, no hands!” when driving his bicycle. Shouts that about 32 times.
Ideal if you’d always wanted to see a Michael Bay movie, but didn’t dare because you were afraid they might throw you out of your cozy cinephile circle. Featuring Matt Damon as stand-in for Willis or Schwarzenegger.
At least I could still enjoy the presence of Julia Stiles. A weak comfort.