They saw each other across a crowded farmer’s market. He was selling houseplants. She wanted a plant that she never had to water or prune or think about. Ever. He suggested a cactus, telling her that it only needed “the bare minimum love a human can give. So you should kill it.”
Clearly, Cole and Sadie were meant for each other.
They went out for coffee. Then drinks. Then dinner. Before they knew it, the sun was coming up and they were going to bed. Together. Because of course they did.
But as an art curator, Sadie travels a lot on business. As such, she likes her relationships to be like her houseplants: worry free. Maybe a little spiny. She doesn’t have time to put much care, or thought, or attention into her personal life. Her business demands so much.
But Cole’s a farmer. Caring for things, be they houseplants or zucchinis or even people, is what he does. And in one evening, he’s come to care a lot for Sadie.
Sure, he was hurt when Sadie apparently ignored his first few dozen texts. But farmers are persistent folks. And when Cole discovers that Sadie’s in London, he decides to do something very un-Cole like: He flies out to see her. And he tracks her down to the ever-so-romantic Tower Bridge.
But Sadie’s not waiting for him. Instead, he finds several armed thugs who quickly grab him, drug him and whisk him into a secret torture chamber—threatening to sic a murder hornet on him unless he divulges the “passcode.”
As second dates go, it’s a bit of a disappointment.
But while Sadie wasn’t at Tower Bridge, she does find her way into this secret torture chamber (which, apparently, isn’t so secret these days). And with a bim-bang-boom (and a bang-bang-bang), she kills a half-dozen people and saves Cole from an agonizing death-by-insect experience.
Cole is beginning to suspect that Sadie may not be the art curator she claimed to be.
Surprise! Sadie’s not an art curator at all. She’s a CIA spy. And while global underworld networks know her work, they don’t know who she—or he—actually is. They know the spy only as “The Taxman.” When Cole shows up at Tower Bridge, they naturally assume he’s the Taxman they’re looking for and whisk him in for a bit of torturing.
None of this exposition is positive, of course—but it does allow us to revisit Sadie’s unexpected line of work and even more unexpected rescue.
Sadie’s current mission is to swipe a lethal chemical weapon away from the movie’s main bad guy: a French turncoat spy named Leveque. This, naturally, involves a strong bit of risk-taking and derring-do, all for the greater good. And we should give Sadie a nice pat on the back for making our world a safer place.
But she also feels a surprisingly strong attachment to Cole—quite out of character for the mission-minded spy. And therein lies the film’s central tension: Does one sacrifice one life for the good of thousands? We see a couple of ex-boyfriends—all of whom seem to be missing a body part or two—which suggest where Sadie’s priorities have typically landed. But Cole suggests that risking everything for those you love has its merits, too.
“When the people you love are in danger, you do whatever it takes,” he says at one point. And Cole—despite having precious little skill in assassinry or espionage—does whatever it takes to keep Sadie safe, at least when he can. Given how foreign this world is to him, he’s putting himself at even greater risk to do so.
When Cole and Sadie first meet, Sadie indeed asks for a no-care houseplant. Cole suggests a plastic one. When Sadie says that buying a fake plant is just sad, Cole says, “not as sad as killing a plant.”
“What are you, the patron saint of plants?” Sadie asks.
An inquisitor who uses insects to torture and extract information refers to the pain that bullet ants inflict as being that of the “spray and pray” variety. “Short for spray in your pants and pray for the merciful release of death,” he says.
We hear a reference to Aztec religious sacrifices. Cole encourages Sadie to see the possession-themed horror flick The Exorcist.
Sadie and Cole’s marathon first date is punctuated by a lot of kissing, but it initially looks like it’ll end with a lingering goodbye at Sadie’s front door. Instead, Sadie pulls Cole inside and they begin making out in the front hallway. They make their way to the bedroom, where the camera shows them engaged in under-the-sheets, PG-13 lovemaking.
Cole takes a selfie of the two of them in bed together (shoulders exposed) while Sadie sleeps, and we see the selfie a few times later. In postcoital conversation, Cole reminds Sadie that he’s a farmer: “You know that power you felt?” he jokes. “That’s from the land.”
Cole lives on a farm with his mom, dad and sister, and all of them accept and joke about the fact that Cole spent the night with someone. And while Sadie and Cole’s relationship takes some pretty significant hits after that, we do see the pair kiss and canoodle later, too.
As mentioned, we meet a couple of Sadie’s exes. One plants a massive kiss on Sadie’s lips as an unwanted greeting. He says that he and Sadie had been a couple for about six months. And though she left him in peril during a mission (both are spies), he holds no ill will and seems to be ready to pick up their relationship again (making a few tawdry remarks as they talk). He lost his hand when he (ahem) split up with Sadie, and he suggests (via hand motions) that he misses masturbation the most, which leads to a crude joke about masturbation.
We meet another ex of Sadie’s. He tells her that losing his manhood was the best thing that ever happened to him. “I’m a good, solid listener now!” he says.
Cole and Sadie fight for much of the movie. People remark about the “sexual tension” between the two, and even some of their enemies tell them that they should “get a room.” One or two people seen in the background seem to be engaged in cross dressing. We hear references to private body parts.
This action comedy features shootouts, fight scenes and many, many casualties. Several people are shot and killed, and the number of fists and kicks and flips thrown here are too many to individually call out. But Ghosted does come with moments of—for a light action romcom—unexpected and jarring violence.
A man dumps a container of bullet ants over someone’s face, and the victim screams as (it would seem) the ants begin to devour his flesh. A guy is pulled into a couple of massive gears, presumably killing him. (We see the body go into the gearworks, but it’s not particularly bloody.) An assassin snaps someone’s neck. Another man gets hit by an SUV. Someone is shocked into unconsciousness. Another person is stabbed in the leg and kicked in a very sensitive place.
A crazy, Indiana Jones-like race along a mountain path results in loads of casualties, including people falling off cliffs, slamming into walls, getting run over and being consumed by explosions.
A man dies after a wall runs into him. (Yes, the wall runs into him.) People get thrown out of skyscrapers and tumble to their deaths. Lives are threatened countless times. Someone’s stabbed in the side. People get hit with trays and pipes and cactus. Someone is tied up and stuffed in a trunk. A person is knocked out. We hear reference to the “Schmidt Sting Pain Index,” with an inquisitor talking about which insects are the most and least painful. (The American honeybee, for instance, is a very mild “1”.) A giant centipede wraps itself malignantly around a giant wasp. There’s mention of serial killers harvesting eyelids.
When Sadie first meets Cole, she tells him that a coworker of hers died suddenly. Later, she admits, “I may have killed her.” As an enemy spy, she was still a coworker in “a loose sense.” A biochemical weapon has the ability, we’re told, to kill thousands. Sadie’s maimed boyfriends form a running joke.
One f-word and about a dozen s-words. We also hear “a–,” “b–ch,” “b–tard,” “d–n,” “h—” and “p-ss.” God’s name is misused 15 times (including being paired three times, in a background song, with the word “d–n”). Jesus’ name is abused once.
At the farmer’s market, a fellow stall-minder (the woman actually selling the houseplants, to tell the truth) asks Cole if he wants to get high. “I got an edible in the truck,” she says. Cole turns her down, so she asks him to watch her stall while she’s gone … getting high.
Sadie and Cole go to a karaoke bar, where a great deal of alcohol is being consumed by its patrons. (We see Cole drinking a beer there.) Characters drink wine at both fancy and family dinners. Someone seems to sip on a whiskey.
Spies lie. A lot. Cole takes particular umbrage at being lied to. Meanwhile, Sadie’s fairly upset that Cole’s taking pictures of her when she’s asleep—pictures that she deems threats to national security and also kinda creepy.
Ghosted reunites Knives Out stars Chris Evans and Ana de Armas in a silly, spirited and (I admit grudgingly) kinda fun action/romance/comedy.
While elements of it can make Roger Moore-era James Bond movies feel gritty and grounded, Evans and de Armas have strong onscreen chemistry. And, compared to your standard Bond flick, the movie’s morals are a bit more elevated, too. While our friend 007 typically pursues his lethal objectives and his one-night conquests with a single-minded, unquestioning intensity, Sadie and Cole remind us that there’s more to life than just Queen and country.
“Protecting the people you love is never a mistake,” Cole says. And that’s true.
But if you’re reading this, you might be trying to protect the people that you love, too—from questionable cinematic content. And yes, some caution is warranted here.
Cole and Sadie slip into bed after their first date—and pretty much everyone in Cole’s life is just fine with that. Language can be harsh. Drug references can be heard. And let’s not forget that Ghosted churns out more dead bodies than your bakery churns out dinner rolls.
One thing that Ghosted doesn’t include is, well, ghosts. But problems? Unfortunately, this film is haunted by a few of those.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
