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Matt Damon plays Jason Bourne, whom we first mysteriously meet floating at sea. Saved by fisherman, Bourne doesn't know who or where he is. He has a safety deposit box number, though, so he travels to Switzerland to claim his box full of passports, cash and a gun. "Who am I?" he muses in German, French and American English. Hmm. With that cache and killer instincts that quickly spring to life, it's safe to assume he's not interning at Arthur Anderson's Paris branch or backpacking through Europe with his fraternity. Just in case the audience couldn't figure it out, we cut to the CIA (yes, the same CIA as the one on CBS), where Bourne is pegged as a loose cannon who must be taken out after a failed operation. The plot should thicken at this point, but it doesn't. It's better to just enjoy the stylish ride to Paris. Though we may not know what will happen next, we know how movies like this end. Fortunately director Doug Liman (Swingers, Go) keeps it interesting with several nice moves. Nice move #1 is that at the American Embassy (yes, another failed TV series) Bourne meets up with Franka Potente (Run Lola Run, Blow) and not some American bimbo. Her charm and quick wit add to the film's Euro-hipness whereas you know Denise Richards would only be a hindrance to our hero. Nice move #2 is let the local crew show you Paris. Amélie may have been a postcard to the Paris of love, but this film makes the City of Lights exhilarating. We don't see our fugitive couple kissing at Les Deux Magots over croissants or hiding from killers behind the Mona Lisa at the Louvre. Though Damon acts like Spider-man in Geneva, he's not slithering down the Eiffel Tower holding a bag of jewels in one hand with Franka hoisted on his back. Nice move #3 is cool car chase scene. For someone who hates car chases and thought Ronin should have been banned, here the chase is excellent. Especially in that jalopy. Nice move #4 is subversively show how much our French brethren also despise their low-level jobs. In one scene Bourne instructs Franka in the ways of a secret agent. Enter the hotel, count the paces to the middle of the lobby, note how many people are around you, blah blah blah—he quickly returns with the coveted hotel bill after merely asking the clerk to make a photocopy for her. Case closed. In another, merely slipping $100 to a morgue worker will get you in the door to poke around cadavers. Of course, it's not all good. Julia Stiles does nothing in this film except turn up the volume on the radio and unfortunately the elusive Clive Owen is shortchanged as a trench coat killer. And too much is revealed. Bourne is hunting for his identity and since we already know it shouldn't take him that long. Focus on the energy of this thriller, boosted by Damon and Potente's performances, instead of mulling over details.
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