![]() In his scripts for the three vertiginously involuted “Bourne” movies, Mr. But the current age of asymmetrical, decentralized conflicts has taken some of the fun and the moral complexity out of fictional espionage, on screen and off. It was symmetry two big nations, armed to the teeth, sending brilliant, cynical operatives out to do their shadowy dirty work that defined the classic spy game in, for instance, the novels of John le Carré. ![]() Yes, the James Bond franchise soldiers on, but even at the height of Soviet-American brinksmanship, 007 always conducted his tongue-in-cheek operations on the margins of the grand geopolitical chess game, facing down cartoon supervillains rather than K.G.B. The kind of movie it seems most obviously to be the jet-set spy thriller, decorated with eye-candy vistas of London, New York, Dubai and Rome (among other intrigue-ridden spots) has suffered a bit of an identity crisis since the end of the cold war. However you describe it, “Duplicity” is superior entertainment, the most elegantly pleasurable movie of its kind to come around in a very long time. It’s a caper movie, a love story with Clive Owen and Julia Roberts, no less an extra-dry corporate satire. ![]() ![]() Its densely coiled plot and splintered chronology reveal a cascade of familiar genres and styles. “Duplicity”: the title suggests something with two sides, but the film itself, the second (after “Michael Clayton”) written and directed by Tony Gilroy, has many more layers and facets. ![]()
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