Whatever That New Bourne Movie Is Called

Jeremy Renner attempts to conceal his beard behind a gun.

Just watched The Bourne (noun), another movie in which a super-duper-agent throws his lot in with a beautiful woman and then is pursued by killers through a foreign city, running across rooftops and riding a motorcycle rapidly through traffic and up and down stairs.

It was fun. Jeremy Renner displayed way less existential angst than Matt Damon, which was a relief. The stakes felt lower than in the other Bourne movies, but this one was always fun to look at. It was sort of like nice travel photography with occasional gunfire and drone strikes, and one fantastic cable-knit sweater. You'll know it when you see it. Man, I really wanted that sweater.

The plot consisted of a series of Very Serious Conversations about the drugs that made Jeremy Renner a super-duper-agent: what color they were, how often he needed them, where he had to go to get them, and how he could avoid needing them in the future. Secret, ominously named government supersoldier programs known only to Edward Norton appear to be a dime a dozen. Edward Norton also had access to an amazing room with many screens and phones that spat out plot information with astonishing speed and accuracy.

Finally, Jeremy Renner, an otherwise fine looking actor, should never grow a beard again. It looked like he had pubes coming out of his face.