Atomic Blonde Movie Analysis

[1] Atomic Blonde is presented as an action-packed thriller, characterized by disjointed dialogue and dramatic fight sequences throughout the city of Berlin. Lorraine Broughton is introduced to the audience as a tall, Blonde, athletic MI6 agent, sent on a mission to retrieve an intelligence list containing the name of every spy in Berlin. It later becomes apparent that Broughton herself is also named on said list, possibly by her double agent alias referred to as “Satchel.” Presented as the stereotypical action film headliner; she’s the renegade heartthrob, who can use astute fighting/shooting skills to maneuver through almost any situation, with intended results. Director David Leitch paints her as a femme fatale. Broughton is a woman with an almost slinky disposition; fluid and able to manipulate any situation despite wearing the wrong outfit for the occasion. Even if her opponents are groups of well-trained men, which is most likely the case for Broughton. 

[2] When revealed in the shocking ending that Broughton is not only doubling as a Soviet KGB informant, but also as a CIA agent whose real identity is unnamed, Leitch’s femme fatale trope completes its full circle. The audience is left to their own devices to decide if genuine emotional displays are made on Broughton’s part, or if she is merely playing into her assigned duties. Leitch presents her as the latter; a cliché that is detrimental to Charlize Theron’s portrayal of Broughton and in which highlights the superficiality in the way Hollywood portrays women headliners. This archetype of the seductress with a hidden agenda is, at the minimum, overplayed and allows for creators to skirt portraying women with innate emotional depth and exploration that does not revolve around her sexuality. Exhibited through references to society’s wrong and outdated associations by way of outfit choice or her bisexuality. Atomic Blonde executes the trope well. Lorraine Broughton is beautiful, cunning and keeps her interactions with others emotionally ambiguous; however, this film would have thematically benefited more from exploring Broughton’s psyche in greater detail and contrasting as such with other characters of the film. 

[3] Broughton’s fluidity is integral in her performance of her spy duties, as well as the title of the film itself. The use of the adverbial word atomic, via its colloquial meaning, describes her character as “exceptional,” “very” “Blonde.” Blondness references to nothing about Broughton except for her hair color, which is only significant in the context of an ideological Western appearance by way of the Cold War. It paints Blondeness as a character trait, a literal personification of a concept that itself has problematic origins. The film follows this narrative, as audiences know by the ending that the Blonde, is American. The resources readily available to her allow her to change appearance, move between the West and East, and feign emotional investment to obtain the information she needs. With the ability to readily adapt her hair/eye color and dress the part of her persona, she’s made to make banal references to concepts such as her outfits. This serves no purpose to the development of character or the plot. Logically, Broughton is a seasoned spy, and could have chosen more practical outfits from the start; such comments are made to align her with a stereotypical woman character type, which is outdated and harmful, a pivotal reason why women characters are often less respected in their crafts as opposed to their male action counterparts.

[4] When seen alone, Broughton often appears unhappy, aided by a glass of vodka over ice. Typically, people don’t drink often and alone unless they have something troubling them. When she takes the ice bath in Berlin (Leitch 2017: 0:24:04) it could be inferred that she’s having a personal quandary of some sort. This moment should have been explored more by Leitch. In keeping this heir of mysterious melancholy around her that is typical of the femme fatale trope, the movie misses a key opportunity to implore more about Broughton’s thoughts which would allow the audience to see her more favorably. By the end, we know she’s a liar with a hidden agenda. If audiences could understand perhaps why she took this job, or how she feels about her mission, it might lead audiences to view her more akin to a hero, as opposed to the poetic James Percival per se. Though, all spies are actors to some degree, the goal is always maintaining a guarded demeanor. It may be argued that Broughton’s personification is no different than Percival’s, or other male characters. By designoth, Percival is a more open character, who acceptedly plays the role of one of her enemies. Broughton is portrayed as a battered (Leitch 2017: 0:04:00), yet emotionally accepting (Leitch 2017: 0:51:41) spy. Audiences see her smile with joking relief at the end (Leitch 2017: 1:48:18), though she has cried for Delphine’s death (Leitch 2017: 1:32:42) and appears bothered by the death of Spyglass (Leitch 2017: 1:22:00). She seems relieved by having completed her duty, despite the lying and killing; it portrays her as emotionally shallow and confused, though the audience has seen times where she appears to be deep in personal thought. Lorraine Broughton seems to be both content/depressed at once. It’s simply not explored enough in the film to leave audiences with a definite answer, henceforth the problematic usage of the femme fatale trope. Audiences need to see on-screen, in-depth analysis of female characters because cultural products, like movies, seep into real-life thoughts about and treatment of women, often not favorably. 

[5] The trope’s (often manipulated beyond its conventional reasoning) purpose is to showcase the variety of female character archetypes, and to defeat stereotypes of how a woman should present herself, allowing her to be comfortable in the usage of her sexuality. However, this is now overused, and the meaning has the tendency to be reciprocal from its intended usage, where directors, like Leitch, use the typification to paints pictures of moody, manipulative, sexually repressed women. Such characters are valuable to films/film studies. However, for an action film, wherein most movies of the genre feature men as heroes with an understandable emotional appeal story, audiences see none of that with Broughton. There is not hint of her real name, no idea of her true motives, and it’s difficult to pinpoint throughout the watching of the film. It may be argued that it’s common for action stars to be portrayed as such, however the action genre itself relies on solidarity with the billing star, often through sympathy, for which Broughton never gets to develop. Audiences realize that she’s been lying the whole time by the end of the film, which washes away any sympathy for her by the rolling of the end credits. The portrayal on women in film should be more diverse. As one of the few films with a female action headliner, she is emotionally lazy compared to men stars in the action genre. 

[6] In relation to another woman character, Leitch portrays Broughton as a bit softer. She seems to have an affinity for Delphine LaSalle and is noticeably upset after her death. The audience is left unclear whether these are her real feelings or if Broughton feel like she’s losing control of herself and her mission. The latter would imply a somewhat failing of her outward representation of being that femme fatale spy. Developing genuine feelings for LaSalle would be interfering with her mission, evidenced by (Leitch 2017: 0:57:32) where CIA contact can be seen warning Broughton to terminate her relationship or face interference from her superiors. Broughton’s ability to makes skillful use of her sexual attractiveness to gain information is of note. Often her seductive powers directly advance her mission vis a vis her relationship with LaSalle (Leitch 2017: 0:53:18, 0:54:50) or playfully rousing Percival when he breaks into her room (Leitch 2017: 0:25:46). As well, she perfectly conceals her true motives until the very end, framing Percival as Satchel and killing him (Leitch 2017: 1:38:15). Every enemy who knew her secret is now dead, her mission is complete. As opposed to with Delphine, perhaps Broughton realizes that Percival has his own skeletons, feeling no sympathy for him because he’s a man with his own hidden agenda.

[7] Though beautiful and sultry, femme fatale stars also, inadvertently, can be seen as lacking substance. Coming across as flighty and scandalous, depending on the lens. Femme fatale tropes often leave audiences with nuanced imagery and no satisfaction about what exactly is real about “her”, whether Atomic Blonde or otherwise. So then, audiences may be left to question why one should care for women like that at all, even in real life. Such loyalty to stereotypes can be a harmful portrayal. It’s often a lazy way to showcase women in film, because the trope itself relies on such mystery. Typically, action films play into the pathos backstory, which should have been done in Atomic Blonde. Stereotypical portrayals of women in roles such as this have a negative effect on the treatment of women in the real world.