Fuse to a kill
He knows gun fu…
JOHN WICK 15
Film Extras OUT 21 SEPTEMBER DVD, BD, DIGITAL HD
Liam Neeson has much to answer for. Ever since he hit paydirt with Taken, the rules of the modern action movie have shifted considerably in favour of actors rather than action heroes. Veteran ass-kickers like JCVD and Steven Seagal, their vehicles marooned on the outskirts of cinema in a town called DTV, must look on aghast as Oscar winners Sean Penn and Kevin Costner invade their turf and secure mainstream distribution.
Meanwhile, Keanu Reeves looks on with the Zen-like bemusement of somebody who knows that good opportunities come to those who wait. Sure, he’s had his fair share of misfires in recent years ( Man Of Tai Chi, 47 Ronin...), but Reeves’ career has always existed in the middle ground between brain and brawn; finally, with John Wick, he restores old-school pleasures without sacrificing the gains made by Neeson’s generation.
One of the biggest ironies (and, if we’re honest, guilty pleasures) of the post- Taken cycle has been the inverse ratio between the gravitas of the star and the plausibility of the story, as producers trust that the thespian credentials will paper over narrative cracks. John Wick is a case in point, highlighting the colonisation of the mainstream by the kind of Z-grade schlock that you’d hitherto only watch after a drunken Friday night out.
This is a film that embraces the familiarity of a no-brainer video rental, from its thumbnail premise (gangsters incur the wrath of a retired killer by slaughtering his dog) to the oft-parodied notion that a criminal kingpin, with the hero at his mercy, will walk away to let hapless minions attempt to finish him off. It even has a scene where the titular hero is told, “No more guns, just you and me, John,” as they gear up for fisticuffs.
If the cap fits…
Yet Neeson and his imitators have given a certain pedigree to this type of story that suits Reeves. He remains a singular actor, prone to problems with dramatic heavy lifting but with enough charisma to stop you caring. As a ruthlessly efficient killer who has belatedly required the feels, Reeves is perfect, and he certainly looks the part as an ex-pro on a roaring rampage of revenge.
Even so, Reeves’ past career – from the pop-ironic exhilaration of Point Break to the intellectual trimmings of The Matrix – has always traded in more unusual textures than the films of
his 1980s muscle-men predecessors. Accordingly, the story world of John Wick ventures into funnier, more leftfield corners than the grimly determined, ever-so-serious Neeson has been permitted to discover.
Aware that so much cliché is on show, Derek Kolstad’s screenplay accessories beautifully, especially in the creation of an underworld which has a communal safe-house – a hotel where ‘business’ is prohibited – and even its own currency, like Disneyland. It’s an inspired touch that brings a welcome note of surrealism and self-awareness to proceedings, especially in Lance Reddick’s scene-stealing performance as the hotel’s deadpan concierge.
If lead villains Michael Nyquist and Alfie Allen are a little too dour, the film compensates by filling the margins with witty performances by gnarly stalwarts like Willem Dafoe and Ian McShane, who provide the welcome sense of a world that exists beyond the horizons of the main character. It’s a film with such strength in depth that, by the time it ends, you might even have forgotten that John Leguizamo has been in it.
The result is probably the finest comic-book movie of recent times that isn’t actually based on a comic book. The aesthetic is Michael Mann does Sin City. The latter is represented by an authority-free, post-noir landscape of hard-faced foes and slinky femme fatales (the ace Adrianne Palicki); the former is implicit in the neon wash of Jonathan Sela’s cinematography and the no-nonsense action impact.
Extra bullet time
And what action! Here’s an actioner that belies the trend to have ageing thesps grunt through rapidly cut nonsense by allowing Reeves to move through relatively long takes with limber grace. Better still, there’s an actual philosophy behind the violence. How many times have you wondered why characters don’t just shoot their opponents in the head? Well, Wick’s your man – he uses martial arts solely to give him the proximity for a close-range head-shot and the film sets a record for the most exploding craniums in a 15 certificate. It’d be sadistic if the film wasn’t so high on its own choreography, unable to linger on the gore because Keanu has already moved on to the next fight. In 2015, only Mad Max: Fury Road can rival it for efficiency and elegance, and with similar results: where George Miller’s masterpiece raises the bar for blockbusters, John Wick demands more from the Taken series and its many imitators. Bryan Mills could learn a trick or two from John Wick’s particular set of skills.
Blu extras comprise commentary from co-directors Chad Stahelski and David Leitch, and five featurettes, the best – and best-titled – of which is Don’t Fuck With John Wick, a 15-minute ode to Reeves’ commitment to the cause. “He carved out his entire summer to become John Wick,” marvels stunt coordinator Darrin Prescott, who delivers another movie-defining gem: “There’s a fine line between gun fu and
Simon Kinnear gun porn.”
Extras › Commentary › Featurettes