200 More People Killed by John Wick
What puzzled me most about John Wick: Chapter 2 – besides the absurd levels of violence, the suspiciously well-tailored suits sported by so many disposable henchmen, and the high incidence of hand tattoos – was the name itself.
Why not just John Wick 2? Or more accurately 200 More People Killed by John Wick? The problem with the current title is that it implies that this second installment of the John Wick franchise could have been a book. Which is plainly impossible. What would the pages say?
“Wick slammed yet another bearded henchman in a well-tailored suit up against the wall, impaling him on the very knife held in the man’s tattooed hand. He then ducked a punch from the tattooed fist of yet another smartly dressed, bearded henchman before killing him. Then three more henchmen (tattoos, beards, suits) appeared, etc. etc.”
And it would keep going like that for pages!
It’s not that select moments in the movie aren’t clever, such as when Wick (Keanu Reeves) and one assailant (rapper-turned-actor, Common) walk briskly through a crowded subway, casually sniping at each other from pistols tucked under their jackets. John Wick: Chapter 2 does not lack for style or precise direction.
What the movie fails to serve up is a reason to care about what happens. Die Hard, Lethal Weapon, True Lies, Terminator 2 – these movies reigned at the box office because they gave us something to root for; a rallying cry of “yippee ki-yay” or “hasta la vista, baby.” If Die Hard has become a yule tide favorite among many American families, it is not because of the body count.
But body count is more or less all John Wick: Chapter 2 can offer. Wick remains a sketch, endowed with one or two idiosyncrasies for filler. He had a love that he lost. He had a car that got totaled. Now a rather campy Mafioso has shown up with a silver “marker” – a sort of I.O.U for murder. We know he’s the villain because not only does he want his own sister killed, he also wears purple. Dead giveaway. Oh, and he burns down Wick’s house for good measure.
Yet, the massacre that follows still feels largely unnecessary. How does stabbing henchman #78 in the ear with a pencil return Wick’s world to a state of balance? And what about the fact that the poor sucker was already incapacitated – his arm broken?
Isn’t this exactly the kind of wanton violence we laughed at back in 1997, when Austin Powers took a moment to introduce us to the family of one such goon, flattened by a steamroller?
To be fair, the choreography of Wick’s rampage is excellent. We watch Wick’s mortal ballet curious as to which manner of fatality he will dole out to the next. But like ballet itself, those who aren’t true fans will likely be checking their watches after the first hour, and hoping – when the lights go up – that it isn’t just an intermission.