The problems with HAYWIRE can be laid firmly at the door of director Steven Soderbergh, who is entirely unsuited to directing what should be a pulse-pounding thriller. Soderbergh's light 'n' breezy, art-house-style direction is at odds with the kind of gritty, realistic, down 'n' dirty vibes he's aiming for here, and the result is an oddly unrewarding movie that goes through the motions, ticks all of the boxes, and yet fails to make any impact on the viewer whatsoever. Although it looks good, it turns out to be a hollow, slightly soulless exercise in movie-making.
The good thing about HAYWIRE are the martial arts scenes: they're very well filmed, highly exciting and utilise to full advantage the skills of real-life mixed martial arts fighter and lead Gina Carano. Having recently rewatched the BOURNE trilogy (in preparation for the upcoming BOURNE LEGACY), I can acknowledge they're the equal of anything in those movies. However, it's the long, slow passages in-between the action that really cause this film to stall. Soderbergh shoots them in his usual way, with jazzy music playing in the background and subdued, quick-fire dialogue, and while that worked in the likes of THE LIMEY and OCEAN'S ELEVEN, it just doesn't here.
The whole exercise feels artificial, and you get the impression that Soderbergh is trying too hard. There's no palpable tension, no sense of build-up, no suspense about what's going to happen to the protagonist. In fact, it's all rather boring, and you're left itching for the next fight scene to take place. Compare this with THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM, in which I was on the edge of my seat during the non-action bits, caught up in an involved conspiracy storyline, unable to wait to find out what was going to happen next. HAYWIRE flatlines between the martial arts antics.
The script doesn't help; it's on the level of the average Seagal DTV actioner, and makes some truly odd decisions (like highly skilled/unbeatable agent Carano telling her life story in flashback to a random stranger throughout the course of the film – far better to have adopted a linear structure and just begun at the beginning instead of this wannabe clever-clever stuff). There are other pluses: the cast is faultless, and Soderbergh even elicits a rather effective performance from walking muscle Channing Tatum. But some of the seasoned performers are underutilised: Douglas, Banderas and Paxton are given little to work with, and Ewan McGregor is miscast in a wishy-washy role.
