Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit

Recently, it seems that every action thriller you go to see falls into one of two categories: the superhero story — a quick Google search will show five sequels and three origins films slated for a 2014 release, about two more than were released in 2013 — or the action thriller that tries too hard to act like Jason Bourne.

Mercifully, “Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit,” a reboot of characters created by the late Tom Clancy, does not try to have it both ways, which just goes to show that director Kenneth Branagh, who also stars as the film’s villain, knows how to exercise restraint even when he’s pincushioning someone with bullets.

Branagh has been quiet these past few years — the last time I saw him, as Laurence Olivier in “My Week with Marilyn,” he minced and screamed away at a despondent Michelle Williams while his eye, awkwardly clutching at a monocle, looked prepared to burst a blood vessel.

Here, as a tight-lipped Russian villain, Branagh is content merely to stare at the camera for an uncomfortable amount of time and let the anger eek out of him. It’s an effective strategy — his face, which bears resemblance to Kevin Spacey’s Frank Underwood from “House of Cards” and Ronald Regan, is jaundiced and bulging like a rotted squash. You can look at it for only so long.

Less effective is Chris Pine as the eponymous CIA analyst turned reluctant gunman. Having enjoyed a career playing sexy superstars with fast wits and faster trigger fingers, most recently in the newly adapted “Star Trek” franchise, Pine decides to buckle down with his character, who is — wait for it — a sexy superstar.

But wait. We’ve seen this before, in 2002’s “The Sum of All Fears” where the character was sketched out by Ben Affleck, obviously uncomfortable taking over from Harrison Ford, but trying to work himself over it. Ford, whose effortless authority is clear and present in every scene, is still the best Jack Ryan to date.

Pine’s too-golden boy — a red, white and blue-wired patriot who looks like he should still be in college, but is instead mixing himself up in foreign affairs.

Kevin Costner, a predictably grizzled mentor, puts it best when he calls him a boy scout and watches as Pine responds with a sheepish grin.  

It’s a good line but it’s not his own. Henry Czerny said the same thing to Harrison Ford in “Clear and Present Danger,” and has to take a step back to keep Ford from throttling him.    

We meet Ryan in an extended opening sequence in which the character, an economics student in London, joins the Marines after the events of 9/11, is shot down while on a mission, sweats in physical therapy — partly from the exercise, mostly from flirting with Keira Knightley — and joins the CIA.

We don’t need this opening sequence. It weeps with forced patriotism and mistakenly gives Ryan the aura of a triumphant hero, returned and recognizable, like Superman donning his uniform in a new remake. People of my generation will not be convinced that Jack Ryan is that famous.

Ryan, who analyzes super-secret Russian assets on Wall Street and reports findings to the CIA, winds up in the motherland to audit some billion-dollar accounts he can’t access.

Viktor Cheverein (Branagh) has sizeable investments in American companies, which he plans on suddenly withdrawing — just in time for a bomb he has planted to go off in New York in order to collapse the value of the dollar.

Ryan’s visit threatens audit and Cheverin sells his assets to prevent it. Economics first, terrorism later.

This plays out about as boring as it reads.

Branagh has a good eye for pacing and tension, but he should have taken the cue from the previous Jack Ryan film “The Sum of all Fears” and stayed out of the motherland.

He still treats his Russians as Reagan’s evil empire. They are all slimy politicians in expensive suits who listen exclusively to classical music and give curt nods whenever they want an American dead.

Cheverin’s excuse, that he’s vindictive about United States’ involvement in the Soviet War in Afghanistan and wants to make his country great again, is as thin as characterization comes.

In reality, lots of people are pissed off at the U.S., though the film chooses to ignore that fact and run with purely pro-American propaganda.

Cheverin’s character would suggest there is no archetype fit for the Russian character other than that of the prodigal son, straight-laced and choleric, who sprays bullets because he would have nothing else to do with himself if he weren’t.

Kevin Costner, playing a kind of foil to Branagh, looks bored or high or both, but is, either way, just in it for the chance to squeeze off extra rounds into security goons.

There’s not a trace of Branagh’s villainous desperation when Costner fires a gun. His backup to Ryan’s bravado is strictly for his own enjoyment.

And why shouldn’t he enjoy it? This is a kind of pre-retirement for the 59-year-old, and though Costner isn’t exactly yachting, he sails through the role just fine.

No danger here.