Ghosted has all the makings of an action rom-com that softly flips the genre clichés of spy movies, thanks to an a priori hilarious notion (a boyfriend finds that his infatuation is a super-spy). Instead, Dexter Fletcher (Rocketman) inks a deal for an untitled soft TV movie on Apple TV+, which fails to promote its two key performers, Ana de Armas and Chris Evans.
If the increase of streaming has resulted in anything, it is the death of the star system rather than the demise of theatres. Even if it is evident that the severe franchising of Hollywood blockbusters has not been without effects, it is difficult to pinpoint a beginning point for this paradigm change. Popular actors are known less by their names and more by their portrayal of a fictitious character that is iterated from picture to film, particularly in the domain of superheroes.
As a result, aside from these comfy steamrollers, the "new" stars are trying to make a compelling case for fans to drive to a multiplex. The benefit of SVoD is that the work required is significantly less, and a Netflix, Amazon, or Apple production has every incentive in presenting Dwayne Johnson, Ryan Reynolds, and other Chris Pratt on its front page.
All of these lovely individuals are therefore learning to repair their (financial) health in this factory of "content" (that dreadful term), despite the fact that each new endeavor, more costly than the last, gives itself the appearance of a hungry TV drama. The extreme flatness of Ghosted's staging and photography, the umpteenth assemblage of sonorous shots-reverse shots and lethal American shots where everything is always too bright, never encourages the spectator to decipher the series of images offered to him.
Of course, we could shoot the ambulance, emphasizing that the action moments are pure aberration in terms of camera placement and editing, but the remainder of the film is far more intriguing in the I-don't-care-fortism. Ghosted spits in the face of the concept of scenography as - a film by - Mawenn, whether it depicts characters roaming in an empty room or shapes a face-to-face tension around a round table. The audience is bewildered in the face of even the simplest exchanges, which blatantly defy the 180 degree rule and their creators' self-esteem, as each performer is filmed in solitude like the laziest of telenovelas. A achievement in the genre.
But why would Dexter Fletcher, the compassionate Rocketman's director, start on such a galley? The filmmaker never allows himself the opportunity to have fun with the tempting notion of the feature picture, in which a man who is a bit too amorous finds himself becoming the "damsel in distress" against his spy lover, since he is so effaced in the exercise that one would think he was replaced by an AI.
Certainly, the technique has no other goal than to combine romantic comedy and action cinema, but the reversal of genre relationships might result in a deft diversion of worn-out conventions. Unfortunately, that would have required writing more talented screenwriters than the self-satisfied mops Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, accustomed to high-concepts left in embryo under layers of jokes (Deadpool, Six Underground, Zombie Land ).
Ghosted, like their previous sins, frustrates by lingering on the surface of its issue, especially when it mocks its neuneus clichetons without ever jostling them (its terrible French with a caricatural accent, pity). A heinous wasted opportunity given its premise, since it never addresses the underlying sexism in espionage movies, or the relatively poisonous amorous conduct of its protagonists, which it rapidly brushes under the rug. It's all sweet and innocent, but the film fails to fulfill even the most basic of its promises: to glamorize its key couple of Ana de Armas and Chris Evans.
The chemistry between the two performers should not be questioned, yet the camera makes little attempt to capture this intensity. Why bother when Ghosted takes advantage of the aforementioned "star death"? The idea exists only for its intertextuality and lax relation to previous films, like if De Armas prolonged her role as a James Bond girl in No Time to Die and Evans had fun portraying Captain America's opposite.
We're no longer dealing with tales, and even fewer with characters, but with headless crossovers content to fill the hole with suites of ponderous cameos from Ryan Reynolds (decidedly always in the proper shots) or Marvel comedians. Ghosted should have been a true, decent actor's film - the foundation of a wonderful romantic comedy - but it chose to be simply another platforming joke, as soulless as the actors who come to collect their pay.