Reel Entropy

Whose idea was it to release this movie in not November?

The November Man is Pierce Brosnan’s own project that he took up after retiring as James Bond. It was put on hold in 2007, and is only now hitting theaters almost 10 years later.

This shot, in which Devereaux waves at the camera he knows the CIA is looking for him through because he’s so cool and he knows everything, is exactly the kind of trite, boring nonsense that The November Man is made up of almost entirely. Photos courtesy Relativity Media.

In addition to co-producing, Brosnan stars as Peter Devereaux, a former CIA agent who returns to action when he learns an old lover, Natalia Ulanova (Mediha Musliovic) is seeking asylum from Russia and needs to be extracted. Ulanova knows how to find someone who can implicate new Russian president Arkady Fedorov (Lazar Ristovski) and CIA executives for several war crimes, and when she’s killed, Devereaux races against his old agency, the Russians and the New York Times to find refugee camp worker Alice Fournier (Olga Kurylenko), the only other person who can lead them to the witness.

All the circumstances of this movie — development for the film in which Brosnan would cast himself as a spy/hitman beginning just after he officially stepped away from the James Bond franchise, casting a recent Bond girl to play opposite him and his statement in an interview that “Daniel can’t have it all to himself” — point to Brosnan trying to be Bond again, which is sad, because he was never very good at it and it’s all anyone remembers him for.

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The Possession of Michael King follows its title character (Shane Johnson), a documentary filmmaker, after his wife dies in an accident early in the movie. King decides to search for proof of the divine or the infernal and becomes possessed.

The goal of found-footage haunting movies has always been to distill the experience of being haunted and shoot it directly into the audience through a first-person perspective. In these movies, scary things don’t happen to characters on a screen – they happen directly to you. The Possession of Michael King tries to take it a step further and give the audience a first-person perspective of being possessed. It fails miserably in this task.

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Photo courtesy Miramax Films

The year was 1995. Pulp Fiction was sulking angrily in the corner of a seedy Los Angeles bar, glowering into a bourbon-filled milkshake. The film had gone home almost empty-handed. Sure, it had won best original screenplay. But best actor? Best picture? Best director? The Academy had thrown them all at some chocolate-obsessed retard called Forrest. That film had even won best adapted screenplay, and voters made sure Pulp Fiction overheard that Gump would have stolen another of his awards had the screenplay categories been merged.

It was almost last call when the haze finally lifted from the film’s eyes. Another movie had walked in, sauntered over to the bar and leaned against it, back to the publican, and fixed her gaze on him. This was Casablanca, a film 50 years the pulpy crime saga’s senior.

He made a relatively straight line for her, and thought fast, gently purring to her, “M’am, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you have a moment to talk about the Book of Ezekiel?”

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