John Wick
Is there anybody more underrated than Keanu Reeves? Long blasted by critics for years for what is perceived as him having a rather monotone, deadpan acting style, Reeves has more than made up for it with an abundance of charisma, screen presence and also rising to the occasion when paired with top flight costars, qualities which have all been shown to draw increasing returns at the worldwide box office. Obviously, one of his specialties is indeed the action genre with Reeves possessing the uncanny ability to make even run of the mill storylines work better based solely on his mere name being at the top of the marquee. That theory certainly applies to this 2014 release, an unproven property not based on any kind of prior comic book or other incarnation but rather an original spec script by a first time screenwriter that got greenlighted and produced, all while being helmed by a first time director (Chad Stahelski) who had actually served as Reevesā stunt double on The Matrix movies and continues to be friends with him to this day. In addition, the actual concept (retired hitman comes back for one last job and / or rampage) is hardly groundbreaking in and of itself, with the unique twist coming from showing how the world of assassins (and high end criminals in general) is one that is entirely separate from our own, with their own hotel, code words and even currency in the form of gold coins. The film opens with Keanuās Wick grieving over the death of his wife (Bridget Moynahan), a woman who was apparently decent and ānormalā (and with whom Wick had been living a ānormalā life away from the flashiness and quick deaths which had punctuated his old existence), from an unnamed illness. Somehow, prior to her passing she had made special arrangements to have had a cute little dog delivered to him after her funeral along with a note asking him to love this puppy like he had loved her. This semblance of peace and stability in his life comes to an end in a chance encounter with a young punk (Alfie Allen) and his friends who covet his prized vintage Mustang and finally go so far as to stage a home invasion on Wick where they assault him, steal the carā¦and kill the dog (an unpleasant bit of business that is not too overly traumatic in how itās presented). Turns out that the punk is actually the son of a Russian crime boss (Michael Nyqvist) who is so powerful that he is currently the de facto ruler of New York City which explains why the son feels so entitled that he thinks he can raid everyday peopleās homes and turn their lives upside down. But Wick is no everyday person, and as it turns out he was not only a former employee of the crime boss father, but it was also him that went on a specific killing spree that in turn completely consolidated the power for Nyqvist which allowed him and his Russian cronies to enjoy the money and power which they have now. So upon finding out what his only son has now done, Nyqvist is utterly disgusted with his boyās actions but nonetheless still feels the need to at least try and protect him (shades of Road To Perdition here) from a hitman who was once so feared and lethal that he was often referred to by others as āThe Boogeymanā. A contract is taken out on Wickās life as Wick arms himself to go to war with the entire Russian mob if necessary to get to the sniveling little punk son. Certainly the mass kill scenes are nothing new and even recall some of Reevesā more over the top action scenes in The Matrix, only here the amounts of nameless henchmen who become cannon fodder certainly leaves little to the imagination with Wickās killing style usually involving two bullets to the chest and then one to the head to finish along with the ability to do so in such a quick, precise manner before moving on to the next one. The story stumbles with such bits as having Wick literally get knocked unconscious (making him a sitting duck) only for the crime boss to have him tied up and awakened for a pointless conversation when finishing off this killing machine ASAP should have been his first priority, not to mention the crime boss (an older man in his 50s) turns out to be able to have an extended final fight with Wick man to man which should have lasted 20 seconds but instead goes on for about 2 minutes. The gimmick of having the assassins staying at their own fancy hotel / refuge brings some original notes to the table and there are some choice supporting roles here for such notables as Willem Dafoe, Ian McShane and John Leguizamo, but the best bit might very well be with David Patrick Kelly as the expert in āwaste disposalā (i.e. dead bodies) who treats his duties as if itās just another 9 to 5 job and in the filmās best moment, happily comes trotting in from off to the side after an important staged hit has just taken place, fully prepared and ready to just clean up immediately after. As for Reeves, he admirably goes to a much darker place than weāre used to seeing from him, and no wonder: his own fiancĆ©e in real life had died years earlier and most indications are that he never recovered from it, so even if mass shootouts (which as presented are impossible in real life) and an attempt to portray a criminal netherworld that is completely foreign to our own reality (which is probably half true realistically) only partially succeeds at moving us emotionally, Reeves in his dark place here is more than enough to be compelling in what would be the kickoff for a major franchiseā¦
7/10