The Bourne Ultimatum by Paul Bullock

Jason Bourne is back, and he's not best pleased. This could be because he‘s finding more resistance than ever in his three-film quest to discover his true identity, but frankly it's more likely to be down to the fact that, well, he's a bit knackered. Hardly surprising really, because all he's done for the duration of the franchise which bears his name is run. In fact, when you break these adaptations of Robert Ludlum's mammoth literary trilogy down to their bare components, they're nothing more than one, long cat-and-mouse chase comprised entirely of three interchangeable scenes: Jason Bourne running, Jason Bourne stopping running to complain about not being able to remember anything and Jason Bourne being tracked running by some malevolent government types.

You'd think such a tedious formula would make for some terribly dull filmmaking and, in the case of the first flick, you'd be right. Directed by Mr and Mrs Smith helmer Doug Liman, the Bourne Identity was a frankly boring triumph of style over substance. Plot holes abounded (Bourne seemed amazingly alert and intelligent for someone who can‘t remember his own name), Matt Damon looked nervous and uneasy as he took his first steps from being 'Ben Affleck's Best Mate' to ‘Hollwood A-lister’, and rather than being the dramatic move away from the over-the-top James Bond films many claimed it was, it was simply another dumb spy flick, just with more fist fights than gadgets.

It was only when Paul Greengrass came onto the scene for the sequel that the franchise received the boot up the backside it so sorely needed. Bringing the high-urgency documentary-realism he had employed in earlier films such as Bloody Sunday and The Murder of Stephen Lawrence, Greengrass turned The Bourne Supremacy into a master-class of bruising whizz-bang action and the film proved not only that Damon is one of the most interesting and versatile actors currently working, but also that the Bourne franchise really did have something fresh and new to add to both the spy genre and the summer blockbuster scene.

What it lacked though was a certain personal edge, Greengrass seeming slightly trapped by having to work from the set-up of the first film. Here in Ultimatum, however, the British director, now much-respected in Hollywood after being Oscar-nominated for United 93, is free to mould a film that is his and his alone and what he has created is a piece of work that taps into the same fiercely political concerns he showed in his earlier movies. Only this time, rather than metropolitan police racism or the black spots in the history of the English army, the target is the far more global concern of surveillance.

Oliver Wood’s cinematography bleeds with the artificial glow of computer screens, the soundtrack hisses with digital feedback and Greengrass's camera peers over characters' shoulders, into crowded train stations and through skyscrapers’ windows. This, in other words, is cinema as voyeurism, Greengrass using this shooting style to turn the viewers into the spies, giving us access to and understanding of the multitude of ways that Bourne is tracked, before plunging us back into the real world and reminding us, as we tap in our texts and walk past security cameras, that we are the ones being spied on after all.

It’s a fascinating and frightening indictment of the state of the modern world, but not one that’s a left-wing whitewash. If Bourne here represents the normal man fighting against an oppressive system, he's one capable of just as great evils as his opponents. In one scene we see him dupe his pursuers into arresting an innocent man so he can slip away unnoticed, while another sees him detonate a makeshift bomb in a crowded marketplace. Bond may have been grumpier than usual in Casino Royale, but Bourne is the true anti-hero, his righteous anger levelled out with indefensible actions, Greengrass forever reminding his audience that while action heroics can be fun, they always come at a price.

Sadly the price for concentrating so much on the central character is paid by the supporting players. Albert Finney is underused in one of the film's (and franchise’s) most important roles; David Strathairn’s government official Noah Vosen is a transparent shot at the Bush administration (asked when the chase for Bourne will end, he simply replies: “when we win”) and Julia Stiles’s returning Nicky feels like nothing more than a concession to the studio, who were probably looking for a semi-love interest to soften the blow of the crushing action.

Yet in a film that's as visually-driven as The Bourne Ultimatum such script issues are forgivable. This is thrilling blockbuster filmmaking and what it lacks in detailed character development and plot, it more than makes up for with intriguing political subtext, high octane action and, of course, running. Lots and lots of running.