John Wick leaps into motion with such swift, shameless emotional manipulation that the whole thing threatens to collapse into self-parody before it can begin. The eponymous hero (Keanu Reeves) watches tapes of his late wife in a flash-forward, and he even receives a puppy from her from beyond the grave. The dog is so cute that the film does not waste time getting to its inevitable death, placing it only a few minutes later, when the son of a Russian mob boss (Alfie Allen) kills her while breaking into John’s home to steal his hot rod.
The setup is ludicrous, but just as quickly as it lays this goofiness at the audience’s feet, John Wick rebounds as one of the most focused action films to emerge in Hollywood in more than a decade. John, revealed to be a former hitman for the mob whose clown prince just raided his house, goes on a killing spree for revenge, a clichéd narrative that the film elevates with a number of crucial accomplishments.
First, directors Chad Stahleski and David Leitch do not shackle themselves to Hollywood’s realism fetish, even as they show more care for believable gunplay than most. Firearms actually need to be reloaded in their world, not just at the worst opportune moment, but every time someone empties a clip. John himself does not shoot indiscriminately but with the trained marksmanship of an expert killer, always tagging opponents twice in the chest and once in the head. The filmmakers set these ground rules against gloriously absurd, highly chromatic settings like an assassin’s hotel with Art Deco lobbies and a bar that resembles every generation of cabaret rolled together. John’s home is the sort of modernist building typically occupied by villains, all hard lines, glass and steel that makes the space perfect for a fight.
In the film’s centerpiece, John tears through a techno club soaked in bleeding neon red and blue, its pounding 4/4 music mimicking the simultaneous abandon and methodicism of his rampage. As soon as shots are fired, hundred of bystanders run in every direction, crowding the frame as John works his way through scores of Russian henchmen, moving so fluidly that only when the sequence is over do you realize how odd it is that we’ve moved from close-quarters combat in a subterranean bathhouse, through a dance floor and finally up through a VIP lounge, each setting part of the whole but distinctive enough that the rules subtly change at each stage.
Stahleski and Leitch’s loving use of strange, geometrical areas is matched by their facility with physical performance. The two come from a stunt background, and they steadfastly avoid the cheap cutting and jittery camerawork that has turned action cinema into one giant fake-out that masks weak choreography and the limited abilities of actors as an attempt to capture the visceral “reality” of a fight. These directors favor long and medium shots that view an entire action and cut on movement, creating an energetic sense of the speed of John’s honed skills while ensuring that we see the fruits of those skills. Though gunplay drives the action, the film resembles a classic Hong Kong martial arts movie, respecting the prowess of the choreography and the capacity of both the actors and stuntpeople to perform it.
That appreciation for flesh-and-blood people extends to how lovingly the directors treat their cast, a cavalcade of character actors who consistently find ways to enhance even the smallest parts. Willem Dafoe shades in an ancillary friend of John’s with a worry about getting old that is only ever exhibited in small quirks of behavior like juicing, while Ian MacShane, Lance Reddick, and Adrianne Palicki embody various aspects of the assassin underworld that reveals their professionalism, their adherence to a code of honor, and, in some cases, their ultimate willingness to break that code for a profit. Michael Nyqvist has the meatiest of the supporting roles as the mob boss who must try and protect his son from John’s wrath, though Nyqvist plays the man as someone who, if he’d been blessed with even one more potential heir, would more than happily feed Iosef to the wolf to protect the rest of his flock. A climactic duel with Nyqvist is perhaps the one moment that truly threatens to overstretch credulity, but the actor’s subtly comic performance, exasperated instead of vengeful, is a highlight.
But the focal point, obviously, is Reeves, who has not been this magnetic in a long time. As much as people have loved to take potshots at his acting abilities over the years, no one has ever seemed half so surprised by Reeves’ stardom as Reeves himself. His innate sense of wonder and enthusiasm has lent giddiness to projects that might otherwise have been too severe, giving actual surfer-dude chill to Point Break and infusing The Matrix’s most po-faced line, “I know kung-fu,” with such stunned disbelief that it works. Reeves brings middle-aged gruffness to the part of John, but he also softens the part with his natural sense of empathy. To see him looking miserable is to know something is wrong in John’s life, and if the revenge plotline is simplistic, Reeves’ sad eyes and gritted teeth lend the finale a greater sense of import than any killing.
A/V
Shot with the cold filters and sharp contrast of Arri Alexas, John Wick contains several unavoidable issues of detail loss, but for the most part Lionsgate’s Blu-ray beautifully handles the film’s wild chromatic leaps and harsh focus. The Red Circle sequence in particular retains all of its hallucinatory power, where the lack of separation between colors becomes an asset, not an artifact. Black levels are also great; the filmmakers point out an instance of crush as they watch the Blu-ray on the commentary, but I couldn’t spot any. As good as the video is, the Dolby Atmos track is even better. Atmos tracks typically accompany chaotically loud productions, but while the gunshots are amplified and the music occasionally drowns out dialogue, the film uses its sound tastefully, and the audio track reflects the balance of the sound design, not simply its volume.
Extras
A directors’ commentary is the chief feature, and Stahleski and Leitch prove to be laid-back, articulate speakers with numerous anecdotes, digestible technical information, and a boundless enthusiasm most visible when talk turns to the actors. A slew of featurettes provide behind the scenes footage and interviews other members of the cast and crew, but whether detailing the ethos of the assassins or a breakdown of the club scene, the features largely bolster the sense of giddiness shared by everyone on the film. Reeves in particular speaks from his experience as a director, concisely pinpointing Stahleski and Leitch’s strengths within the confines of standard EPK filler.
Overall
They truly don’t make ‘em like John Wick anymore, and this smooth, finely crafted Keanu Reeves vehicle belongs on any Blu-ray shelf as an ideal rainy-day film.
