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Written by: Tim Riley

Published: 30 August 2015

HITMAN: AGENT 47 (Rated R)

Eight years ago, Timothy Olyphant had the starring role of a humanoid killing machine in “Hitman.” He’s since gone on to better things, such as playing a determined U.S. Marshal in the long run of the TV series “Justified.”

Now, I can’t exactly remember if the original “Hitman” was good enough for a sequel, but somehow, in the back of my mind, the anticipation of “Hitman: Agent 47” to deliver the action goods at the end of summer seemed to be a reasonably justifiable expectation.

In this new “Hitman,” Rupert Friend comes along as the supposedly new and improved model known only as Agent 47, with a barcode tattooed at the back of his neck, which may come in handy when checking out the large stash of weapons he routinely needs for his assignments.

Much like his genetically engineered assassin predecessors, who apparently all used the same tailor, the baldheaded Agent 47’s indistinct style is that of sporting a crisp dark suit, a neatly starched white shirt and bright red necktie.

With his sartorial style accented by a colorful cravat, there’s no way that Agent 47 will inconspicuously blend into the scenery while running through the Berlin subway system or the streets of Singapore.

Whether intentionally drawing notice to himself or not, Agent 47, armed with an assortment of guns and knives, is on the hunt for a mysterious woman named Katia von Dees (Hannah Ware), who has become the object of attention for nefarious purposes.

Another person on the trail of Katia is the suitably-named John Smith (Zachary Quinto), another secretive man.

His intentions initially appear honorable, but he does have a curious interest in Katia’s obsession with searching for a mystery man for reasons unknown even to her.

Katia’s shabby apartment in Berlin includes a giant wall map covered in post-it notes and newspaper clippings, while large scrapbooks contain scribbled writings and renderings. She suffers a lot of flashbacks and exhibits signs of a heightened awareness of her surroundings.

We have no idea if Katia is suffering from trauma or a mental breakdown, but whatever it is, she is taking enough medications that one hopes she has decent health insurance.

Of course, a good health plan is the least of her concerns once the shadowy John Smith and Agent 47 converge on the scene.

What are we to make of Agent 47, a supposedly cold-blooded killing machine absent conscience and human feelings? Is John Smith, a capable fighting force in his own right, really empathetic when he volunteers an escape route for Katia?

At the heart of the mystery is the reclusive Dr. Litvenko (Ciaran Hands), the man who engineered the Agent program years ago and now regrets his invention.

Nefarious bad guys are looking for him to get the program refined to create even more insidious killing machines.

The question that won’t be fully answered here, lest a certain amount of surprise is removed from the equation, is who is mostly responsible for wanting to create more mayhem in an already chaotic world?

There are signs pointing to an organization called Syndicate International, based in a gleaming Singapore high-rise, complete with the obligatory helicopter pad required for the criminal mastermind’s inevitable escape.

Note to self: any time the word “syndicate” is used to describe an organization, it’s an excuse to default to understanding this to be a criminal enterprise. After all, this was the case in the most recent “Mission: Impossible” film.

A good candidate for supreme leader of the forces of evil is Le Clerq (Thomas Kretschmann), if only because he is surrounded by machine gun-toting bodyguards and never leaves his fortified high-rise lair, even to mingle with his own staff.

As the story moves along, Agent 47, an unstoppable killing force of nearly inhuman skills, exhibits traits of humanity beneath the surface. But mostly, he’s just an indestructible machine capable of wiping out platoons of armed assailants.

Strip “Hitman: Agent 47” of its precious few moments of human interaction, and what you get is an orgy of gratuitous violence that is not surprising for a film originally adapted from an eponymous videogame.

The body count is so high in this film that it is easy to imagine that Agent 47 probably killed more people in the opening minutes than James Bond ever did in the entire span of the last 50 years of the 007 franchise.

In the end, it takes more than a plethora of shootings to make an action picture truly memorable on all fronts.

“Hitman: Agent 47,” with its moments of suspense, comes up short on character development. But who has time for that when gunplay and violent mayhem take up almost the entire 96-minute running time?

Tim Riley writes film and television reviews for Lake County News. 

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Written by: Editor

Published: 25 August 2015

KELSEYVILLE, Calif. – The last event of the Summer Poetry Series is this Wednesday, Aug. 26, at 6 p.m. at the Saw Shop Gallery Bistro, 3825 Main St. in Kelseyville. 

Hosted by Lake County Poet Laureate Casey Carney, the reading features poets KC Patrick, Fran Ransley and Sandy Stillwell, with a collaborative performance by poet Sam Flot and saxophonist Jim Leonardis.

Open mic sign-ups are at 6 p.m.

Five poets will be invited to share up to five minutes of poetry each.

The $10 admission includes a glass of wine, an appetizer and $20 in Saw Shop bucks, to be redeemed at the patron’s convenience.

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Written by: Ted Kooser

Published: 24 August 2015

Twenty years ago my wife and I had visitors from New York, and their car broke down on a country road about a mile from our home.

One of them panicked because there were no phone booths from which to call for help. Nebraska is a place where there can be a lot of room between one land-line and the next.

Carol V. Davis of California did a residency at Homestead National Monument, and this is one of the poems that came out of it.

Animal Time


                                I do better in animal time,
a creeping dawn, slow ticking toward dusk.
In the middle of the day on the Nebraska prairie,
I’m unnerved by subdued sounds, as if listening
through water, even the high-pitched drone of the
cicadas faint; the blackbirds half-heartedly singing.
As newlyweds, my parents drove cross country to
Death Valley, last leg of their escape from New York,
the thick soups of their immigrant mothers, generations
of superstitions that squeezed them from all sides.
They camped under stars that meant no harm.
It was the silence that alerted them to danger.
They climbed back into their tiny new car, locked
its doors and blinked their eyes until daylight.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation ( www.poetryfoundation.org ), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. They do not accept unsolicited submissions. Poem copyright 2013 by Carol V. Davis, “Animal Time,” from Harpur Palate, (Vol. 13, No. 1, summer/fall 2013). Poem reprinted by permission of Carol V. Davis and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2015 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-06.