Hugo Weaving gives this political thriller a persuasive voice, and the action has force. But its speeches and thinly imagined future leave more to debate afterwards than to enjoy along the way.
V for Vendetta is a frustrating political thriller with a performance worth staying for, though not enough clarity to make its long speeches rewarding. James McTeigue sets out to make resistance to fascism exciting, dangerous and morally uncomfortable. Giving the central role to a masked avenger who uses violence ought to prevent the film from becoming a straightforward account of good defeating evil. The difficulty is that it keeps making its hero look persuasive while leaving too many of the objections to his methods unattended.
Hugo Weaving, playing V, gives the film the complication it needs. Working behind a mask, he makes the voice carry the force of a performance that cannot depend on changing facial expressions. We were drawn to V despite ourselves, because Weaving makes his certainty sound inviting rather than merely overbearing. That is useful discomfort in a film about a man appointing himself to speak for others. The screenplay by Lilly and Lana Wachowski too often responds by giving him more to explain.
Natalie Portman’s Evey has less room to manoeuvre. Portman supplies feeling, but Evey too often has to receive V’s ideas without being given equally substantial ones of her own. Their relationship consequently lacks the friction that might make the political talk matter to two people as well as to a screenplay. Stephen Rea’s Finch and John Hurt’s Adam Sutler offer firmer points of interest in the supporting cast. Both give their parts a conviction that helps when the dialogue starts to labour.
Adrian Biddle’s cinematography gives the masked figure a menace that survives even the heavier passages of dialogue. Owen Paterson’s production design is equally assured at making this future look intimidating, although it is less successful at making it credible. The world around V feels arranged for his campaign, with too little sense of ordinary life continuing beyond it. For all the care taken over the images, the setting rarely persuades us that these people inhabit a functioning society.
McTeigue handles violent action with more confidence than he handles exposition, and the physical confrontations briefly give the film some needed urgency. Martin Walsh’s editing has a harder task with the talk, which repeatedly stops the momentum to explain another piece of the plot. Dario Marianelli’s music pushes for excitement, but the score cannot supply all the urgency those stretches lack. At 132 minutes, the film gives us ample time to notice how much of its energy comes from Weaving rather than from events.
As a political thriller, it also makes the case against its fascist regime so easy that V seldom has to withstand serious questioning. We do not need the villains softened or excused; we need the consequences of his beliefs examined as closely as the appeal of his defiance. The Wachowskis are prepared to make political violence the subject of popular entertainment, which is a worthwhile risk. They are less willing to make their chosen hero difficult to support, and the film’s seriousness suffers for it.
There is enough skill here to explain why the film has its defenders, particularly in the voice behind the mask and the force of the action. We share some of that enthusiasm, but the long explanations and the weakly developed relationship keep interrupting it. Anyone coming chiefly for Weaving should allow for a considerable amount of waiting between the reasons they came.
