NIKITA (1990)

Action cinema found itself in a rather tragic artistic slump during the 1990s. The once vibrant genre that had reached stratospheric heights during the preceding decade now languished under the weight of its own repetition. The figures who had previously defined the genre continued to headline marquees, but there was an unmistakable air of fatigue and creative bankruptcy. Even masters of the form, including Walter Hill and Clint Eastwood, descended into mediocrity with lacklustre attempts such as Another 48 Hrs (1990) and The Rookie (1990). Meanwhile, the Hong Kong action scene was thriving with innovation and artistry, propelled by the brilliance of filmmakers including John Woo (Hard Boiled) and Tsui Hark (Once Upon A Time In China). However, outside of film circles discerning enough to look beyond the confines of Hollywood’s increasingly lethargic output, their work remained largely obscure to Western audiences.

The genre desperately needed innovation, and that revitalising force eventually emerged from France. A calculating mixture of French contemplativeness and American thrills from writer-director Luc Besson swept into cultural consciousness. Despite the condescending addition of “La Femme” to the title to spare several regions from the confusion of mistaking it for a Russian import, Nikita had already achieved international acclaim by the time it reached British shores. Its arrival served as an unforgiving reminder of Hollywood’s creative fatigue and highlighted Besson’s affection for empowered female assassins. His electrifying vision simultaneously revitalised a genre on life support and cemented his status as a cinematic force that would be impossible to ignore.

When a violent robbery of a pharmacy inevitably goes wrong, Nikita (Anne Parillaud) is sentenced to life in prison.Instead of serving her sentence, she’s informed that she has been recruited by a nefarious government organisation. Nikita is offered an unpalatable ultimatum: she can either train with the agency to become an elite assassin or she can occupy an empty burial plot that already has her name on it. She grudgingly chooses the former and under the cold tutelage of Bob (Tchéky Karyo), Nikita transforms into a lethal operative. She adopts a new identity and begins living an almost picturesque life in Paris with her unsuspecting boyfriend, Marco (Jean-Hughes Anglade). Initially, Nikita is able to separate her personal and professional lives easily. However, the illusion of normalcy is shattered when Bob unexpectedly visits the newly engaged couple. While posing as a distant family member, he gifts the couple a trip to Venice for their honeymoon. Unbeknownst to them, their hotel room conveniently offers a perfect vantage point for Nikita’s next assassination. As her struggle to balance this dichotomy intensifies, she has to choose between her former life as an elite assassin or her new life with Marco.

The most important factor to the continued effectiveness of Nikita is Anne Parillaud’s (The Man in the Iron Mask) magnetic presence as the eponymous character. Showcasing her impressive capabilities with an incredibly complex performance, the actress embodies a protagonist who oscillates between raw vulnerability and ferocious tenacity. When we’re initially introduced to the character, she’s an unsympathetic nihilistic teenage delinquent with nothing but a leather jacket and a volatile temperament. She calmly kills a police officer after a bloody shootout and later stabs her interrogator with a pencil. However, it’s not until after completing her training to become a professional assassin that she exhibits genuine human emotion and a moral consciousness. She may be fearsomely convincing as an assassin, but there’s a suppressed anguish behind her large eyes that yearn for ordinary existence. There are many conflicting layers that Parillaud needs to bring to the surface, and the results could have been fatal in the hands of a less capable performer. It’s a delicate balancing act between fragility and ruthlessness, but she compartmentalises the opposing sides of Nikita’s personality wonderfully.

Alongside his contemporaries, Jean-Jacques Beineix (Diva) and Leos Carax (Boy Meets Girl), writer-director Luc Besson is considered a prominent member of an emerging film movement of the 1980s. Distinguished by its hyper-stylised visuals and sensory-driven storytelling, Cinéma du Look fuses the kinetic energies of Brian De Palma (Blow Out) and Martin Scorsese (After Hours) with the superficiality of music video aesthetics. Like he did with his post-apocalyptic debut The Last Battle / Le Dernier Combat (1983) and his sophomore crime-thriller Subway (1985), Besson merges Nikita with his French sensibilities and American populist genre. From the startling opening sequence of a group of young drug addicts inexorably marching toward a pharmacy, Besson directs with the unmistakable flair of a filmmaker raised on rock music and television. A striking amount of neon drenches the delinquents as they desperately raid the premises for drugs.The sensory overkill continues as the robbery predictably spirals into a shootout and the police storm the building wearing infrared goggles.

Besson’s periodic reliance on inventive visuals serves as a crucial linchpin in heightening the appealingly off-kilter atmosphere. However, it’s the filmmaker’s superb orchestration of various action sequences that ultimately distinguished Nikita from virtually all of its genre contemporaries. Despite being released over three decades ago, its distinctive stylisation rarely feels dated. Besson’s increasingly audacious directorial choices pair wonderfully with Thierry Arbogast’s (The Fifth Element) cinematography. A particular action sequence at an opulent restaurant is succinctly fresh and intense while maintaining the gritty realism that mainstream audiences crave. The meticulously crafted choreography gunplay pulses with visceral intensity as Nikita marches through the establishment with balletic precision, dodging a cacophony of bullets in the kitchen. Meanwhile, the fluid camera movements combined with asymmetrical compositions during the more subdued moments evoke a dreamlike quality. Detractors will argue Besson’s stylish idiosyncrasies overshadow substances, but his style is unarguably always interesting.

Because the frenetic action sequences are so energetic and intense, they inadvertently drain the midsection of its former momentum. Yet, this lull allows Besson’s screenplay to explore something infinitely more nuanced and focus on Nikita’s struggle to reintegrate into society and her delicate relationship with Marco. After three years of dehumanising imprisonment, the simple act of visiting the grocery store becomes something special. One particularly poignant sequence sees Nikita navigating the aisles of a supermarket, mimicking another shopper in an almost childlike imitation. She fills her cart in disbelief as if grappling with the notion that she now possesses the freedom to choose. It’s here she encounters Marco and begins to feel tenderness and trust. His presence acts as a domestic anchor and he provides a space free from the inquisition of her past. It’s a touching relationship and genuinely heartwarming as she gradually learns to embrace her womanhood. Admittedly, there’s probably more emotion to be gathered from Léon (1994) and the central relationship between Leon and Mathilda (Natalie Portman). However, the emotional terrain explored here is altogether different, offering a contemplative exploration of personal rebirth.

Besson has continually demonstrated an amazing fondness for strong female heroines and Nikita was the blueprint for his unique approach to females involved in his oeuvre. However, his approach to gender politics is far less progressive upon closer examination. Nikita’s womanhood is not an expression of autonomy, but a construct imposed upon her following her capture. It’s crafted by her handler and advocate in the nefarious government organisation, and further shaped by Amande (Jeanne Moreau). Her training, her principles, and her identity remain under male authority. While Nikita’s female mentor teaches her the etiquette and elegance required to go undercover, her guidance never ventures beyond the sexual realm. “There are two things that are infinite” Amande purrs as Nikita applies lipstick in front of a mirror. She continues “Femininity and the means to take advantage of it”. She’s a woman in an ostensibly man’s world and what little agency she has is limited to being under their overarching guidelines.

Although the subtitles unfairly relegated Nikita to the art house circuit during its US theatrical release, it became an immediate cult favourite. Its success would prove inspirational for several subsequent remakes including Stephen Shin’s Hong Kong reimagining Black Cat (1991) and the utterly soulless American remake Point Of No Return (1993) starring Bridget Fonda. Even more directly, it inspired two long-running television series in 1997 and 2010. However, Nikita did more than simply inspire weak imitations, it catapulted Besson to international fame and cemented his reputation as one of France’s most prolific filmmakers. It granted him the opportunity to produce favourites such as his simmering thriller Léon, and the delirious science-fiction epic The Fifth Element (1997).

While Nikita may not ascend to the heights of Luc Besson’s subsequent triumph Léon, it stands as an exhilarating early foray into the distinctive stylistic world that would define much of his commercial oeuvre. The combination of interesting characters, evocative cinematography, and a highly stylised directorial approach hints at the idiosyncrasies that would eventually shape his aesthetic identity. Unfortunately, it’s not without its imperfections. The narrative stumbles under the weight of its momentum during the midsection and the ambiguous conclusion may leave less discerning viewers disgruntled. However, these minor missteps pale in comparison to the towering presence of Anne Parillaud. Her gripping and unforgettable performance remains one of the most interesting female protagonists of the decade. The depth and complexity the actress brings to the fragile yet deadly character serves as a lively precursor to Sydney (Jennifer Garner) in the television show Alias (2002-06) and Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss) in The Matrix (1999).

FRANCE • ITALY | 1990 | 117 MINUTES | 2:35:1 | COLOUR | FRENCH • ITALIAN • ENGLISH

Limited Edition 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray ‘Steelbook’ Special Features:

Showcasing a wonderful 2160p Ultra HD transfer, Nikita has received a marvellous 4K restoration courtesy of StudioCanal. Sourced from the original camera negative, the transfer is presented in its original aspect ratio of 2.35:1 and was supervised by writer-director Luc Besson.

Levels of detail are deceptively sharp, and viewers will appreciate the transfer’s ability to showcase splintered fragments of furniture and drywall erupting during action sequences. Individual clothing textures remain discernible, and the clarity of the graffiti inside Nikita’s room at the training facility is also incredibly impressive. The addition of high dynamic range adds a pleasing visual element to the presentation and renders the colour palette beautifully. Flesh tones appear natural and vibrant primaries are wonderfully reproduced. The neon blues and greens inside the pharmacy during the opening sequence remain vividly rich. Black levels are rich and satisfyingly deep, revealing a wonderfully resolved veneer of grain from start to finish. Whereas whites are pristine and stand out nicely. Overall, the presentation enjoys a substantial improvement, and fans of Nikita will likely be pleased with the results.

The Ultra HD release of Nikita features three audio tracks with optional English subtitles. StudioCanal provides a French LPCM 2.0 stereo, and an immersive French and English DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio. The DTS-HD 5.1 is not a mix of aural fireworks but it maintains an attractive amount of dynamic to the midrange. Éric Serra’s (Goldeneye) wonderfully engaging score is dispersed evenly across the soundstage when the music cues help drive the narrative. Dialogue is effectively discernible and nicely prioritised at the front, enabling atmospherics within the mix to be detectable. The soundstage becomes noticeably engaging during action sequences. Action effects including blistering gunshots and shattered glass are amplified for impact, remaining primarily at the rear. It’s unfortunate the presentation lacks a Dolby Atmos mix because it would make some of the most intense sequences much more immersive.

• At the Heart of Nikita—Making Of Nikita.
• Interview with actress Anne Parillaud.
• Interview with actor Tchéky Karyo.
• Interview with actor Jean-Hugues Anglade.
• Interview with assistant director Christophe Vassort.
• Interview with restoration supervisor André Labbouz.

Cast & Crew

writer & director: Luc Besson.
starring: Anne Parillaud, Tchéky Karyo, Jeanne Moreau, Jean Reno, Jean-Hugues Anglade, Jean Bouise, Philippe Leroy, Roland Blanche & Jacques Boudet.