A spectre is haunting the action film these days. It's not violence. There is nothing spectral about the ubiquitous crashes and bangs, the insistent maiming and killing of persons, the wholesale destruction of posh cars and real estate. The spectre is sorrow. From Batman to James Bond, every hero is grieving, stricken by a loss from which he can't recover, whether of parents, mistress, wife or daughter. He - it's always a he, the women in these movies just get to be decorous or evil, much better options - is all twisted inside, and that's why he . . . er . . . devotes himself to the service of virtue. Come to think of it, the violence and the sorrow are not unconnected. The more the hero is grieving, the more freely, morally even, he can stir up whatever mayhem he likes.

LRB 9 April 2009 | PDF Download