Director Julian Farino’s “The Union” follows Mike (Mark Wahlberg), a construction worker content with his job, dive bar outings with his friends, and sleeping with his former seventh-grade teacher (an awkward joke that remains a punchline over the course of the film’s entirety). When his adolescent flame, Roxanne (Halle Berry) returns to the east coast after decades of no contact, what he thinks is a meet cute down memory lane turns into an international intelligence operation.
Hackers have accessed the personal information of all of the Western world’s government employees, from soldiers to cops and the FBI. Agent Roxanne and her cut-to-the-chase boss Tom (J.K. Simmons) are spearheading the mission to retrieve the hack to prevent it from getting in the wrong hands. Their titular organization, The Union, is a small, highly secretive agency within the government, akin to the operations of the CIA. They’re “an invisible army that keeps the world running,” an agency that looks for street-smart, blue collar individuals who fly under the radar. Kidnapping Mike from New Jersey to London, Roxanne enlists his help for this high-stakes assignment for one sole reason: “He’s a nobody.” It’s a flimsy premise that precedes an equally thin film.
There’s no driving force when it comes to the characters. We suspend disbelief that Mike would be remotely interested in this life-threatening operation for which he has no true technical skills solely out of nostalgic romance and maybe a hint of patriotic duty (the latter of which is not far off but assumed more for Wahlberg’s habitual social sentiments than anything in-script). On paper, the plot seems to be the sole consideration of the film, while character development and world-building this criminal underbelly falls to the wayside.
Everything about “The Union” is painstakingly familiar. Wahlberg kicks back and lounges comfortably in his habitual role: a laid back, kinda cocky east coaster who juggles punchlines and machismo. Berry, who is fully capable of being a compelling action star, (most recently in the third installment of the John Wick franchise), attempts her best with the film’s shoddy script. “The Union” hits bullet points on its outline with an overwhelming sense of tired obligation and stunted creativity. Its leads have no chemistry and being that their will-they-won’t-they serves as the story’s main attempt at depth, the emotive capabilities of the film sputter and shut down.
“The Union” delivers tonal whiplash on account of its failure to exceed at either end of its genre attempt at action-comedy. The action is mostly unremarkable, with a few key set pieces that pump the pace, but ultimately neglect to put anything exciting on display. Rebounds of exposition and non-committal world building fudge the film’s flow, making the 105-minute runtime feel like a fight to the finish.
Its ham-fisted comedic attempts incite semi-indignant smirks and exasperated chuckles rather than genuine, inspired laughter. Most of the jokes hit with the punch of a half-deflated whoopee cushion, and the sneaking feeling that the script was written on the basis of cheap laughs creeps further up your back as the minutes tick on. “The Union” is unspecial and unengaging. It lacks charm and excitement, clutching to simplicity and a lazy script that relies on star power that’s not bright enough to save it.
