Cover-Up review – atrocity exposer Seymour Hersh, journalist legend, gets a moment in the spotlight

Hersh’s record on uncovering the big stories, from My Lai to Abu Ghraib, speaks for itself. This documentary watches him at work: dogged, nonconformist and combative Renowned investigative journalist Seymour Hersh was never played in a film by Robert Redford or Dustin Hoffman, like the Washington Post’s Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. But as this documentary portrait argues, he’s probably more important than either. Hersh has a longer record of breaking big stories, from the My Lai massacre in Vietnam to torture by US army personnel at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq – the latter a historic scoop underscored by the stomach-turning photos which Hersh brought to light. Hersh is asked if Abu Ghraib would have been the story it was without those pictures and replies: “No pictures, no story.” Well, maybe. But his other scoops had no pictures of this kind. One incidental thing Abu Ghraib showed was how ubiquitous digital photography became at the beginning of the century; how easy it was to take...

The Union review – Halle Berry and Mark Wahlberg heat up Netflix action flick

The stars’ rapport helps retain your interest in a preposterous international caper that has something vaguely to do with justice

Like a good covert operation team, everyone involved in the latest in a long line of expensive yet generally forgettable Netflix action flicks is clear on the mission. They know their role, and what they’re being paid for. Mark Wahlberg, playing to type as a downhome blue-collar guy, enters the movie shirtless. Halle Berry, as a veteran intelligence agent, kicks ass while wearing a Catwoman-esque all-leather uniform. JK Simmons, as the head of a covert group of working-class secret agents (hence, the Union), conveys no-nonsense avuncular authority as only JK Simmons can. And Julian Farino, director of such shows as Giri/Haji and Entourage, wrings each of the many combat scenes for snappy but never stressful suspense.

The fictional purpose, besides a vague sense of justice, is never totally clear however. Nothing in The Union is subtle, including its hope that the star power of Wahlberg and Berry will paper over a set-up that feels dubious even by silly caper standards. Berry’s Roxanne is a longtime operative for this secret federal agency (maybe?) of blue-collar workers that goes under the radar, gets by on its unpretentious efficiency and disdains the CIA for its elitism. The film opens with the Union in crisis, as a mission to extract a CIA defector in Trieste goes awry, leaving several agents dead, including Roxanne’s closest partner Nick Faraday (Mike Colter). For quickly stated reasons, a “nobody” is needed to complete the mission. Enter Wahlberg’s Mike, Roxanne’s high school sweetheart.

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