As Batman has recently shown us, maybe the best place to train for revenge is up to your ankles in a lot of snow.
“Hanna” opens with a sequence that acquaints us with the Hoth-like world we’ve been thrust into. Erik Heller (Eric Bana), a former covert government agent, and his killer-in-training daughter Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) seem capable of inhabiting this world, living off of disemboweled caribou and reciting trivial facts from an outdated encyclopedia. But there are people to kill and scores to settle, both involving the 16-year-old protege’s quest to become part of a world for which not even Wikipedia could prepare her.
As with most globe-hopping goose chases, “Hanna” is the kind of film that must give location scouts the highest of thrills and the most intense fits of frustration. While each new locale may present physical and logistical challenges, Wright and his crew manage to give personality to these disparate settings while still pushing the plot forward.
It’s a plot that may draw significant comparisons to the “Bourne” trilogy, given its respective protagonists’ search for their killing’s true purpose. The “Bourne” films succeed in creating a believable, organic governmental subplot with relatively clear and believable motives. But the menacing government impetus for “Hanna” is never fully revealed until the last third of film, leaving the audience without a clear indication of the plot’s implications. The closest we get is Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett), a diabolical intelligence operative who latches onto the Heller family’s whereabouts just as Hanna makes her a main target.
Wiegler is definitely a capable villain, even if the fluidity of Blanchett’s accents is sometimes distracting. However, with faceless institutional backup that don’t do much to outline the consequences of the Hellers’ escape, it’s difficult to pinpoint how invested an audience might be in seeing the good killers outrun the bad ones.
While Wright’s previous films have been noted for their visual technique and artistry, the biggest strength of “Hanna” is its attention to sound. Whether in the bustling market square of a North African outpost or in the barren, icy backwoods of a Finnish forest, the sensory details ring truest with eyes closed. This stylistic choice works best when the audience shares the auditory perspective of Hanna herself, when her hyper-sensitive powers of perception lead to an Aronofsky-like psychological barrage of input.
Even if the sound of the film sometimes commands the most attention, the visuals are no less stunning. The various palates of color and light bring a pleasant blend of emotional complexity to a movie that, given the cold-blooded, lifeless foundation of its main character, could easily have dwelt in a series of successive greys.
Most of that debt is owed to Hanna herself, played deftly by Ronan, who is simultaneously able to convey youthful wonder and a robotic lack of interpersonal skills. But she really shines in the film’s few intimate, tender moments, in which she imbues her character’s simplicity with a faint smile, bringing humanity to a main character that could easily stay in the automaton range.
The most underused member of an ensemble dusted with assassin-movie tropes is Tom Hollander, who plays Wiegler’s assassin underling Isaacs. It’s a performance as far away as possible from Mr. Collins, Hollander’s character in his previous Wright collaboration, “Pride and Prejudice.” Isaacs also happens to be the most ominous whistler since Omar on the HBO show “The Wire.”
For all the intriguing elements that go into setting up a thrilling conclusion, Wright tears down what he builds up. The climax ends up playing as a fairly conventional final act, complete with overwrought symbolism that tosses away much of what makes the middle scenes engaging. “Hanna” is at its best when the crowd can see and hear the movie breathe in all its literal and metaphorical forms.
Email Greene at sgreene2@media.ucla.edu.