This movie was sweet for a million reasons.  You can’t beat a movie about a nice guy with no idea who he is kicking ass.  He gets on a boat (unconcious) and kicks some sailor ass.  He goes to the embassy (wearing only a sweater when everyone else has winter coats on cuz he doesn’t care about the cold) and kicks some Marine ass (unrealistic, I know).  He gets in a crappy car and finds a way to kick some more ass.  And all the while, he has no idea who he is, but he keeps his cool.  This movie makes you want to go light some candles, learn kung fu, and join the freakin NSA or whatever government agency Bourne worked for so you can become just like Bourne.

 

Alas, this movie has its flaws also.  First of all, if you have no memory, how the heck are you supposed to know what you should know?  For example, he sits in the café with the hottie and tells her how weird it is that he knows the license plate numbers to all the cars outside.  How does he know that everyone doesn’t know that?  I’ll tell you.  It’s because he hasn’t really lost his memory.  He just said he did as a ploy to hook up with that girl.  The oldest trick in the book.  And now he’s bragging about memorizing license plates.  Something that makes people smart is being able to filter out unimportant information, like license plates.  Go figure.  Bourne steps down a notch.

 

Secondly, I have to ask, can Bourne play a tuba?  I mean, it seems like he’s attained mastery at nearly everything else.  He has a lifetime’s training at martial arts.  A lifetime’s training at computers.  A lifetime’s training in foreign languages.  And the list goes on.  I’d bet that if you took an exceptionally skilled baby and trained him at anything for his whole life, that he would not be as skilled as Bourne.  I’d bet that I could spend a year training with ANY weapon, and Bourne would come along and be able to use it better than me on his first day.  Then you have a bunch of chicks watch the movie and think, “whoa, I wanna hook up with him!” not realizing that it is total crap.  I’d bet Bourne could bake pancakes better than freakin Aunt Jamima.

 

Still.  The movie rocks. 

I’m gonna go watch it again right now and then give my resume to the NSA.