SWORDFISH (2001)
A covert counter-terrorist unit wants the money to help finance their war against international terrorism, so their leader enlists the help of a convicted hacker...

A covert counter-terrorist unit wants the money to help finance their war against international terrorism, so their leader enlists the help of a convicted hacker...
For nearly half a century, cybersecurity, cyber-attacks, and the elusive figures who perpetrate those acts have served as objects of cinematic fascination. However, this fixation underwent a dramatic renaissance at the turn of the millennium due to the cultural tremors of Y2K paranoia, the burgeoning internet culture, and a growing unease towards the encroaching digitalisation of modern life. High-tech thrillers including Johnny Mnemonic (1995), Hackers (1995), and The Net (1995) managed to capture the zeitgeist of an anxious world teetering on the edge of digital dependency.
From this milieu emerged The Matrix (1999), the apotheosis of Hollywood’s cyber obsession that deftly fused technological thrills with philosophical inquiry and blockbuster spectacle. As Warner Bros. patiently awaited the Wachowskis’ development of its sequels, there was a plethora of misguided attempts to recapture the digital intrigue with blockbuster spectacle. Among them was Dominic Sena’s Swordfish, a risible high-octane thriller brimming with pyrotechnics and bravado but virtually bereft of narrative coherence or intellectual ambition.
The notorious international computer hacker Stanley Jobson (Hugh Jackman) has recently been released from incarceration after orchestrating a cyber-attack on the government’s digital surveillance operations. Prohibited from accessing a computer and forbidden from seeing his beloved daughter, Holly (Camryn Grimes), he has been reduced to spending his days hitting golf balls from the roof of his quaintly dilapidated trailer home. After being approached by the enigmatic Ginger Knowles (Halle Berry), Stanley’s offered $100,000 to listen to a proposal for an ambiguous project spearheaded by her duplicitous employer, Gabriel Shear (John Travolta).
Initially, Stanley refuses the proposition, fearing that he’ll return to prison. However, he’s eventually manipulated by the promise of regaining custody of his estranged daughter. During their meeting, Gabriel reveals that he’s planning to steal $9.5 billion accumulated by the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) to help finance his personal war against international terrorism. To accomplish this scheme, the criminal mastermind requires Stanley’s unique expertise to access the government’s encrypted database. As Stanley enters a world protected by passwords, firewalls, and the most advanced security systems, he must ultimately choose what side of the law he stands on.
Basking in the glow of his career resurgence following his role in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (1994), John Travolta delivers a wonderfully unhinged performance as Gabriel Shear. Drawing from the smug malevolence he cultivated in Broken Arrow (1996) and the delirious swagger of Face/Off (1997), the actor embodies an antagonist who oscillates seamlessly between magnetic menace and malevolent cunning. Gabriel is a megalomaniacal impresario orchestrating a symphony of cybernetic chaos like a deranged maestro. He’s part philosopher, part showman, and equal parts cybercriminal and unhinged ideologue. Travolta walks a delicate line between caricature and gravitas, and the results could have been fatal in the hands of a less capable performer. However, he descends into chaos with glee, exacting the confidence of an actor who knows how to elevate the material. Although his overly grandiose monologues decrying Dog Day Afternoon (1975) and Harry Houdini threaten to stumble into ludicrous territory, Travolta pirouettes through the 90-minute runtime with a devilish grin on his face and a seductive sparkle in his eye.
Elsewhere, Hugh Jackman stands as a figure of unexpected gravitas as a reluctant hero with tragic undertones. Stanley Jobson is a former computer hacker attempting to escape his criminal history and reconnect with the daughter he lost in a custody battle. However, when his past will not leave him alone, he finds himself entangled in Gabriel’s ludicrously coiffed scheme. Fresh off his breakout role as Wolverine in X-Men (2000), the Australian actor crafts a character steeped in moral ambiguity and internal conflict. As Stanley teeters on the precipice of redemption and desperation, he navigates the dichotomy with a surprising amount of pathos, lending the audaciously bombastic narrative a fleeting sense of emotional authenticity.
Finally, Halle Berry (Moonfall) proves herself to be increasingly confident and unapologetically sexy as Ginger. The actress embodies the role of a fractured femme fatale, manipulating her limited screen time into moments of intrigue. She imbues her character with an allure that suggests there’s greater intelligence and calculation behind those smoky glances and sultry silences. It’s unfortunate that her performance is primarily remembered for a gratuitous topless scene, and the actress was reduced to an object of voyeuristic marketing. However, this publicity move aligns perfectly with her character, who understands exactly how to disarm and misdirect in a world dominated by men.
When prolific producer Joel Silver (Predator) channels his formidable industry muscle behind visionary filmmakers such as the Coen brothers or the Wachowskis, the results can be astonishingly memorable. The combination of independent iconoclasts and unlimited Hollywood resources has produced some unforgettable cult classics including The Hudsucker Proxy (1994) and The Matrix. However, too often do Silver’s projects collapse into a thunderous cacophony of bombastic explosions, sharp witticisms, and machismo bravado. Swordfish is dominated by its producer’s familiar brand of cinematic excess, but director Dominic Sena (Gone in 60 Seconds) orchestrates the high-octane entertainment with such confidence that it’s difficult not to admire its audacity. Among the many interesting action sequences throughout the taut 90-minute runtime are an overwrought foot chase down an endless dune and an utterly gratuitous car pursuit through crowded streets. Perhaps the most preposterous flourish involves a bus containing explosives being airlifted by a large helicopter through the skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles.
Indeed, a substantial amount of suspended disbelief is required for Silver’s brand of cinema. However, there are fleeting moments of inspiration that prevent Swordfish from vanishing into the cinematic landfill of early-2000s action thrillers. Sena honourably attempts to be unique by utilising his visual flair to elevate even the most derivative moments into something enthralling and kinetic. The infamous opening scene establishes the tone for his stylistic ambitions and possibly makes the best use of ‘Bullet Time’ since The Matrix. When a hostage negotiation devolves into chaos, the audience is subjected to a visually arresting 360-degree sequence of an explosion. As the camera pirouettes in synchrony with the blast wave, suspended shards of glass and shrapnel weave among frozen civilians contorting in anguish. It’s a meticulously choreographed combination of slow-motion and centrifugal camerawork that still pulsates with visceral intensity and generates thrills over two decades later.
While its brazenly sensationalistic exterior maintains a propulsive rhythm, Swordfish ultimately buckles under the weight of its own narrative pretensions. Skip Woods (Hitman: Agent 47) desperately attempts to craft a sophisticated thriller, layering its characters with ambiguities and shifting allegiances to outwit the audience’s expectations. However, the overwrought screenplay spirals into an increasingly tangled web of artificial identities, government corruption, and the kind of grandiose theatrics nicknamed “Swordfish Project”. In one particular scene, it’s explained how Harry Houdini’s success hinged on his ability to misdirect his audience. The famed illusionist would draw their gaze in one direction while executing the trick elsewhere. This metafictional wink might suggest an awareness of its own narrative sleight of hand, but Woods’ screenplay ultimately mistakes ambiguity for depth and misdirection for brilliance.
Central to its illusion is Gabriel, positioned as a vigilante obsessively devoted to fighting against international terrorism. He’s a member of a covert counter-terrorist organisation conceived by J. Edgar Hoover to “protect American freedoms”. Yet, his motivations are obfuscated under layers of incomprehensible philosophical ramblings used to justify his incoherent actions. While orchestrating the central heist, he employs the ruthless tactics of the very terrorists he claims to despise. Civilian lives become expendable pawns because “Americans take their freedoms for granted”. His justification for committing more acts of violence to deter terrorism becomes hollow, unveiling the film’s grand reveal: there was never anything of substance behind the curtain.
USA | 2001 | 99 MINUTES | 2:35:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • GERMAN
Continuing their hugely successful collaboration with Warner Bros., Swordfish has received an excellent 4K restoration courtesy of Arrow Video. Presented in its original aspect ratio of 2.39:1, the image showcases a wonderful 2160p Ultra HD transfer.
The transfer handles Dominic Sena’s style and flair with veritable panache, and the Dolby Vision HDR intensifies Paul Cameron’s (Reminiscence) wonderfully saturated cinematography, handling the colour palette incredibly well. The Dolby Vision lends a welcome level of increased richness to the distinct sepia tone, boasting strong colour reproduction without becoming overblown during the daytime. Night-time escapades around Los Angeles look incredible, revealing satisfyingly rich and deep black levels that retain plenty of detail. Despite the picture’s overly artificial aesthetic, nuanced colours that require natural tones such as facial complexions are accurately reproduced.
The image is deceptively sharp and contains an excellent amount of clarity, with rendering that draws out plenty of delineation. Individual clothing textures from John Travolta’s suave wardrobe remain beautifully discernible, with every line, seam, and stitch plainly visible. Furthermore, the background detail inside Stanley’s dilapidated trailer home is incredibly impressive. Even the sheen and polish of Gabriel’s automobiles are evident and clear. Swordfish was never the sharpest image, but this new restoration delivers a cleaner and more stable image when compared to Warner Bros.’ previous transfer. Much like Arrow’s recent release of Demolition Man (1993) and The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996), it’s another masterful upgrade for home video enthusiasts.
The 4K release of Swordfish also features two audio tracks with optional English subtitles. Arrow provides an immersive English DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio and English LPCM 2.0 stereo. Although this release doesn’t enjoy a next-gen Dolby Atmos upgrade, the DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio boasts excellent fidelity and dynamism. Swordfish features plenty of action sequences, and the 5.1 mix embraces every outburst of violence with pristine clarity. Ear-shattering action effects such as blistering gunshots, squealing tyres, and shattering glass are amplified for sonic impact and reverberate nicely through the side and rear channels.
Meanwhile, sequences featuring large groups of characters also engage the side and rear channels effectively. Paul Oakenfold’s electronic soundtrack has received a noticeable boost, and when his thunderous beats kick in, the subwoofer pulsates and throbs. The electronic melodies remain primarily at the front of the soundstage, but each musical cue sounds precise and boisterous without becoming overblown. Although the absence of Dolby Atmos feels like a missed opportunity, Arrow’s release is a massive upgrade and a welcome improvement over its predecessor.
director: Dominic Sena.
writer: Skip Woods.
starring: John Travolta, Hugh Jackman, Halle Berry, Don Cheadle, Vinnie Jones.