Review
HITMAN: AGENT 47. For a Moment, it’s Even a Good Film
Like the previous adaptation, the creators of Hitman: Agent 47 also tried to humanize the title character somehow, to give him personality.
I played Hitman. There was something fascinating about the slow pace the game imposed. Unlike Max Payne, Grand Theft Auto, or Mafia, the IO-Interactive production was about silence. About the slow and precise elimination of enemies, about sneaking, about remaining unseen. That was when you were the most dangerous to the thugs populating successive locations. Agent 47 had an enormous arsenal at his disposal. We could use virtually every killing tool ever devised by humankind. But it wasn’t about fireworks or inhuman acrobatics in the spirit of The Matrix (the Wachowskis’ film is probably a point of reference for nearly every contemporary game).
In Hitman, the greatest pleasure came from the effective use of the garrote. That was when I truly began to understand what the protagonist of Léon: The Professional meant when, teaching Mathilda how to “clean up,” he repeated that mastering a knife requires greater skill than wielding a sniper rifle.
That was precisely Hitman’s appeal. You had to behave professionally, to keep your hands clean while doing dirty work. To remember to hide bodies, erase traces, pay attention to every detail. To be perfect. Often a single shot—even from a pistol fitted with a silencer—meant the end. It was a difficult, damnably absorbing game.
Somehow that atmosphere slipped away in the 2007 adaptation. Its director, Xavier Gens, wanted to knock down a few walls; he wanted to be loud and explosive. His Hitman felt more like another installment of The Transporter. If not for the title character’s red tie and signature bald head, it would be hard to associate the film with the game. Paradoxically, I don’t consider the movie bad. I liked how Gens subtly explored his protagonist’s sexuality, how he depicted his fear of women—how a weapon became a symbol of masculinity for him, the only thing that made him feel at ease. It was interesting to see this emotionless killing machine forced to express even a shred of empathy. Hitman: Agent 47 is also far removed from my idea of what an adaptation of this game should look like.
The title character (a decent Rupert Friend) goes berserk with guns far too often; there’s too much elaborate choreography, flashiness, and fistfighting. As a result, the film becomes anonymous and bland, offering exactly the same thing as any of the thirty action movies released into theaters each year. I believe Hitman could have been told differently—with more style and restraint, building tension in a more refined way.
The director, Alexander Bach, unfortunately overuses slow motion, at times producing an outright comic effect. He repeatedly lets the cinematographer shake the camera to an unbearable degree and allows the editor to overuse the scissors. At a certain point, Hitman: Agent 47 begins to resemble films from the Terminator universe on a conceptual level. That’s just a digression, but I’m not sure it still counts as a compliment.
I do know, however, that over time Hitman: Agent 47 starts to gain color and meaning. For a moment, it’s even a good film. The training sequence featuring the heroine played by Hannah Ware is excellent. It functions much like a tutorial in the game. We learn how a professional hitman moves, how he uses his environment, and how he eliminates targets. It’s a well-staged sequence with a metatextual quality. This is precisely where fans of the game should find their footing in the film’s world. I also like the final half hour of Agent 47. The collaboration between our hitman and his pupil comes together nicely, and the film gains a lightness it previously lacked. Bach finally seems aware of the material he’s working with. Agent 47 falls into the right rhythm. It’s a shame it ends so quickly afterward.
Like the previous adaptation, the creators of Hitman: Agent 47 also tried to humanize the title character somehow, to give him personality. To enrich him with a human smile. Even to provoke ethical dilemmas. At one point, a very direct question is put to our agent: “Are you even human?” Only at the very end of the film, after the protagonist’s long deliberation, do we receive an answer—of course banal and kitschy. Like the entire production.
We still have to wait years before filmmakers figure out how to properly translate video games to the big screen.
