We went to see John Wick last night and I'm still baffled by one thing. Was the movie a cliche-riddled exercise in gratuitous violence, a stylized revitalization of the revenge genre, a clever parody of Keanu Reeves' screen persona, or a combination of all three?
First there's retired hitman for hire John Wick (Reeves) who got out of the business when he found true love, only to have his soulmate and savior die of a sudden brain aneurysm or something which is never fully explained. Still grieving from his loss, Wick is attacked in his home by the aluminum bat wielding son of a Russian mob boss, whom Wick once worked for. The thugs steal his beloved 1969 Mustang and kill the puppy that his wife left him in remembrance.
This fuels the revenge plot that makes up the bulk of the semi-graphic action that follows, as Wick dispatches dozens of bad guys with his trademark coup de grâce head shots.
Then there's the Russian kingpin himself (Michael Nyqvist) who instead of killing Wick outright when he has the chance, seems determined to talk him to death instead.
There is much humor in the movie, although again, I'm not sure if it's intentional or not, with several throwaway lines, and a classic scene where a young cop appears on Wick's doorstep after a shoot-out in his home responding to "noise complaints."
As it so happened, we had the entire theater to ourselves, so we did not hold back with our comments, laughs, and oh wows. Even though it was a Wednesday evening, this does not bode well for the future of the theater industry, but that's the topic for another discussion.
For my money, this shoot-em-up is definitely worth the price of a ticket and bucket of artificially-buttered popcorn. For pure high-octane, adrenalin-fueled action, John Wick is your huckleberry.
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