O'Neill, played by dead ringer Ryan Phillippe in Billy Ray's low key Breach, was a baby-faced go-getter trying to work his way up the ranks. Hanssen, on the other hand, was a burned-out veteran who, as early as 1980, had grown bitter toward the agency, which he considered full of Neanderthals who didn't understand or appreciate his genius. Hanssen wasn't merely a traitor; he was also a thrill-seeker, an Opus Dei-dreaming Catholic with a penchant for strippers and a thing for posting to the Web sexually explicit fantasies about his wife, Bonnie.
Breach, which details Hanssen's final days as a turncoat, plays like a sequel of sorts to Billy Ray's last film, Shattered Glass, about fabulist Stephen Glass, who was fired from The New Republic for proffering fiction as fact. This time, Ray doesn't have to stretch far to give his story weight; he need not remind people that "The New Republic is the in-flight magazine of Air Force One" in order to justify telling the story of a twerp who did some egregious shit. This is the FBI we're talking about, and Hanssen, played here by Chris Cooper with stolid, brute force, was a certified bad man.
Phillippe has usually seemed like a minor-leaguer swinging a small stick in the bigs, but he's perfectly cast as O'Neill, who got lost in bureau offices the first day he was assigned to work undercover as Hanssen's assistant. He positively shrinks in Cooper's estimable presence; there are moments when you forget he's even in the scene. Everyone in the film, including O'Neill's direct supervisor, Kate Burroughs (Laura Linney), speaks to him like he's incapable of deep thought. Initially, Burroughs even lies to O'Neill when giving him the assignment, telling him that Hanssen is under surveillance because he's a sexual deviant, not a man giving the names of U.S. spies to the Russians so the spies can be killed.
Like the inferior The Good Shepherd, the release of which in December caused Universal to bump Breach to the February graveyard, this is a spy movie bereft of the genre's usual, casual kicks. It's not interested in cheap thrills or playing gotcha with the audience. Ray is more interested in dissecting the relationship between O'Neill and Hanssen, who resists the kid initially but then takes him in as one of his own, insisting that they go to church together and inviting him into his home. As his affection for the boy grows, Hanssen ends up trusting the last person he should have.
The movie does not and cannot hide its ending. The finale is referenced in the first scene, when John Ashcroft speaks to the media about Hanssen's 2001 arrest near a footbridge in a Virginia park, where he was dropping off a cache of documents for his KGB contacts. But Ray, a storyteller in love with liars he wants to hate but cannot, doesn't need a surprise ending. The real one is heartbreaking enough: a tragic love story between the ticked-off traitor who thought he'd found a kindred spirit and the true believer who didn't want to admit that his father figure was one of the world's most dangerous men.