John Wick Movie Review 0 51

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Seemingly on a mission to remind us that he was once a great action movie star, Keanu Reeves returns as John Wick and the results are pleasingly action-packed, giving even the best John Woo cinema a run for its money in terms of body count and with more bullets sprayed in the name of revenge than you could shake a semi-automatic machine gun at.

Wick is a retired but still legendary assassin who just lost his wife (Bridget Moynahan) to an illness. Trying to mourn, he receives a package in the mail containing a puppy, a present from his late wife with which he forms a strong attachment. One day he crosses paths with Iosef Tarasov (Game of Thrones’ Alfie Allen), the son of a Russian mobster (Michael Nyqvist) who later comes to his home, beats Wick senseless and kills his beloved dog, not realising who exactly Wick is and why he shouldn’t be messed with. Wick takes this to heart, to put it mildly, and comes out of retirement to take revenge on the unsuspecting Iosef and killing anyone who gets in his way.

John Wick’s old-fashioned revenge thriller approach works both for and against the film. On the one-hand it’s a no-nonsense throwback to the Death Wish type revenge film that’s only in the last few years made a comeback (see Cold In July, A Walk Among the Tombstones for just a couple of recent examples) but on the other hand it makes the film feel slightly dated even in spite of its fanciful modern style of action. It’s like dressing up an old car with modern bodywork and how much you’re willing to accept that conceit will determine how much you enjoy it.

The clichéd Russian mobster storyline and almost achingly straightforward premise aside, the film succeeds on what it primarily set out to do; deliver some expertly choreographed, bone-crunching and wince-inducing action sequences. Taking on a sort of Raid-esque approach, the film often follows the action in a ballet-like fashion instead of resorting to the sort of quick edits that give many-a-modern day action flick a false sense of freneticism. It’s directed by Chad Stahelski and (for some reason uncredited) David Leitch, both long-time stunt coordinators and fight choreographers and you can tell; the action is clean, elegant and visually arresting in all the best ways, an equally graceful and stylish mix of shootouts, knife fights and hand-to-hand combat that elevates John Wick over many of the revenge actioners that have come and gone without incident or impact over the last few years.

The film makes an admirable though not altogether successful attempt at building a layered criminal world around Wick and his blistering siege of revenge. Before he sets out, he checks into a hotel that seems to specifically cater to assassins who need a place to either lay low or prepare for a mission, with the strict rule that none of their actual business shall be brought to the hotel’s doorstep. There are other details like appearances by other legendary assassins and relayed tales of the jobs Wick pulled off years prior that hint at an expansive crime world. It may be something that the filmmakers explore more thoroughly in the already announced sequel but it feels frustratingly half-baked this time.

Much of John Wick’s first act is basically people telling us why Wick is the last person anyone wants to take on in a fight and when the mayhem ensues it is entertainingly full-on and provides us with a punch-to-the-face reminder of Reeves’ action hero credentials and charisma as a leading man when given the right sort of role. It’s far from perfect, with its rather generically plotted tendencies sometimes getting in the way of things, but it delivers on the elegantly bone-crunching action that it so boldly promises from the outset.

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I’m a freelance film reviewer and blogger with over 10 years of experience writing for various different reputable online and print publications. In addition to my running, editing and writing for Thoughts On Film, I am also the film critic for The National, the newspaper that supports an independent Scotland, covering the weekly film releases, film festivals and film-related features.

I have a passion for all types of cinema, and have a particular love for foreign language film, especially South Korean and Japanese cinema. Favourite films include The Big Lebowski, Pulp Fiction and 2001: A Space Odyssey.

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Movie Review: Home Again 0 414

This review was previously published at The National.

Despite an obviously talented leading lady in Reese Witherspoon and a family pedigree behind the camera in making this sort of rom-com flutter sweetly off the screen, Home Again struggles to finds its way out of cloying cliché and narrative contrivance.

This is the directorial debut of Hallie Myers-Shyer, daughter of genre stalwart Nancy Meyers (The Holiday, What Women Want). It focuses on the life of Alice Kinney (Witherspoon), a single mum who has just turned 40 and tries her best to raise her two daughters Isabel (Lola Flanery) and Rosie (Eden Grace Redfield) in Los Angeles with her job as an interior decorator.

Freshly separated from her British music mogul husband Austen (Michael Sheen), she embarks on a drunken birthday night celebration that leads to her meeting a trio of 20-something lads – Harry (Pico Alexander), George (Jon Rudnitsky) and Teddy (Nat Wolff) – who are trying their best to break into the Hollywood movie business.

The young men improbably end up staying in Alice’s guest house while they work on finishing the script for their first film. Before long they become an integral part of her life, from Alice embarking on a romantic relationship with Harry to George helping out Isabel with her school play. To quote the title of the director’s mother’s 2009 film – it’s complicated.

Except the film mistakes the kind of enjoyably frothy complexity exemplified by the best of the genre for skin-clawing convolution that renders much of the romantic and comedically-tinged drama of Alice’s life lacking in authenticity. Not that it needs the ring of truth that comes with, say, a Ken Loach picture but you need to be able to invest and believe in these characters’ lives as presented.

The approach to gender and generational relationships is simplistic which, of course, is nothing new to a genre that, at least in its Hollywoodized state, so often throws up films meant to be taken as easy-going fluff. But it’s particularly frustrating here when it squanders the potential thrown up with the initial concept of a woman trying to find herself again once she’s out of a stale relationship by entering into one with a much younger man.

It strangely seems far more interested in the plight of the three young men working as three cogs of one creative machine – director/producer, writer and actor – to get ahead in the movie business.  But even then it smacks of implausibility, like a cheap rom-com version of the bromance found in Entourage but without any of the snarky wit or Hollywood satire. Despite decent chemistry between a likeable assembled cast, Home Again is a tough pill to swallow as it rings false through and through.

3.5 out of 10

Movie Review: Goodbye Christopher Robin 0 447

This review was previously published at The National.

The world of celebrated children’s author A. A. Milne and the creation of his beloved Winnie the Pooh stories are chronicled in this frightfully polite biopic from director Simon Curtis (My Week with Marilyn) that flirts with dipping its toes into darker waters but steadfastly clings to safe tropes and always with its top button firmly fastened.

We start off in 1941 where we find an ageing Milne (Domhnall Gleeson in questionable make-up and greyed hair) and his wife Daphne (Margot Robbie) living on their secluded East Sussex farm. They receive a telegram informing them that their son, C.R. Milne, is missing presumed dead after heading off to fight in World War Two.

We then jump back in time to Milne on the front lines of the First World War. He returns from the fighting a changed man; suffering from PTSD (popped balloons evoking sudden gunfire et al.), becoming increasingly sick of just making people laugh with his West End plays and the general hustle-bustle that comes with big city life.

He convinces his reluctant wife to move to the country for some peace and quiet and where his infant son, Christopher Robin (played by Will Tilston at the younger age, Alex Lawther as he gets older), can go on the childhood adventures he deserves with the support of loving nanny Olive (Kelly Macdonald).

Settling into the kind of serene life he craves, he is inspired to create Winnie the Pooh and the rest of his soon-to-be-beloved friends inspired by the stuffed animals with which his young son has become so enamoured. Unfortunately for Christopher – referred to by everyone as “Billy Moon” – his father uses his real name in the stories, turning him into one of the most famous boys in the nation.

Despite the obvious attraction of it exploring the world famous Pooh stories, it’s a film much more interested in the effect it has on a fractured family clinging on to peacefulness, not least the unwanted attention thrust upon a young boy who simply isn’t equipped to handle it and how his parents carry on oblivious.

If anything it takes a curiously bleak outlook on what these stories mean to the world once they’ve been put out there, conveying a somewhat confusing message for a film that ultimately wants us to celebrate these stories as immortally cherished tales; that the Winnie the Pooh embraced immediately by the public and has now stood the test of time for almost a century is in some way missing the point of what it truly means to the author and a son who, inadvertently or not, was used as a tool of innocence to sell the idea of an idyllic childhood in Milne’s Hundred Acre Wood.

It’s bolstered by almost uniformly moving performances; Gleeson plays Milne with a kind of damaged empathy that makes you feel like you get to know the author beyond the public persona. Macdonald is oftentimes heart-breaking as Christopher’s devoted caregiver and Tilston walks away with the film as the adorably sweet-natured young Christopher. It’s only with Robbie that the film makes a misstep; she’s miscast as Milne’s wife and never stepping out of the shadow of cold motherly cliché.

In spite of its darker leanings, the film remains too buttoned up to properly wrestle with those themes in any sort of lasting way, far too polite to ever dive head first into the murky waters into which the drama intermittently peers.

Wrapped in Ben Smithard’s handsomely old-fashioned cinematography and soaked in Carter Burwell’s perpetually swelling score, it’s an aesthetically and emotionally appealing but nevertheless fairly vanilla period biopic best suited to being enjoyed on a rainy Sunday afternoon with tea and biscuits.

6.5 out of 10