John Wick (2014–23, Chad Stahelski) (Patreon)

Unlike most of my peers, it seems, I consider this pretty close to the platonic not-at-all-ideal of a franchise in which each installment, struggling to top its predecessor(s), proves notably weaker than the last. Skipped Parabellum in theatrical release, as two Wick movies had seemed like plenty, but reviews of the new one were so ecstatic that I felt obligated to check in again. Since I'm combining reviews of chapters three and four, might as well save folks time by also including what I wrote years ago about the first couple; if you've looked at those recently, or remember them well, just scroll down to Chapter 3.

John Wick (2014): 69/100 [written in 2014]

I'm a sucker for action choreography that's as intricate and athletic as dance choreography, so this was a real tonic. Even better, though, is the goofy mythology surrounding the Continental, which the movie is confident and witty enough to treat as if it were perfectly normal. Rarely does a movie wait so long to reveal that it's set in an alternate universe, albeit one that's only ever-so-slightly removed from ours. Biggest stumbling block is the primary villain (Mikael Blomkvist, not Theon Greyjoy), who recognizes that Wick is unstoppable, and is even prepared to sacrifice his own son to save his skin, yet (a) doesn't just immediately kill Wick when he has the chance and then later (b) deliberately further antagonizes the guy by committing a revenge murder (while on the phone with Wick, no less). Totally scuttles the more original, counterintuitive conception of the character as he's initially presented—failure to kill the hero is a classic bad-guy blunder, but the Viggo we'd come to know would never, ever make that mistake. 

John Wick Chapter 2 (2017): 60/100 [written in 2017]

Opens with what's almost certain to be my single favorite cinematic flourish of 2017: a silent-movie gag inexplicably projected on the face of a building, accompanied by a loud crash that's revealed, when the camera pans down, to have been vehicular mayhem on the street below. Rarely does the film achieve that level of sophisticated visual wit thereafter, though the shopping-in-Rome montage is officially my first shortlisted Best Scene candidate of the year. (The similarly achronological montage of Wick fending off multiple assassins post-contract seemed confusing rather than innovative, for some reason.) While I was thrilled by the original film's beautifully-yet-brutally choreographed gun battles, they didn't have the same effect this time—not sure if Stahelski's work is actually less impressive or if the novelty of his approach just wore off. On the other hand, I'm still in love with screenwriter Derek Kolstad's intricate underworld mythology—so much so, in fact, that (without getting into spoilers) I've pre-emptively lost almost all interest in the inevitable Chapter 3. 

ATTACK OF THE PLAUSIBLES:

• Why do none of Stormare's goons in the opening sequence have guns? I mean, apart from Stahelski wanting to stage hand-to-hand combat. (At least when he does so later, it's because both Wick and Cassian have lost their guns.)

• I haven't lived in New York since 2009, but at the time I was unaware of any subway train that boards simultaneously from two platforms. They made that up, right? [2023: Apparently it's a PATH train, hence plausible.] 

John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum (2019): 57/100 [new]

As I feared (from the steadily expanding duration alone), significant bloat has set in, with far too much gravity accruing to a scenario—and I hadn't really grasped, until now, that all four John Wick films take place within a timespan of something like a month or two; it's very much the same scenario, accurately divided into "chapters"—that initially appealed by virtue of its blunt simplicity. "Retired assassin tracks down and blows away the people who killed his dog" has an elemental pull; "Retired assassin tries to fend off every other assassin on Earth, which seemingly means every other human being on Earth" gets us deep into overkill territory, and I wasn't surprised—merely heaved a deep sigh—when Wick survives a gunshot wound + fall from a tall building that would obviously be fatal in real life (and would see the victim hospitalized for at least a year if he did somehow miraculously survive). By no means am I demanding strict verisimilitude from OTT action movies, but Parabellum crosses the line into roll-your-eyes superhuman absurdity, which is what happens when it's round three and you've already wowed audiences in virtually every conventional manner. Still some exceptional mayhem, mostly not involving close-range headshots at this point (extended knife-fest's a clear standout), and while the mythology's allure tends to be inversely proportional to its prominence, Asia Kate Dillon's steely adjudicator might be my favorite element since the Continental's introduction in what I guess we should now call chapter one. Did not desire: a fellow dog lover whose fierce mutt ends up in a pistol's sight (see also Chapter 4); endless canine crotch-chomping (see also Chapter 4); Wick's useless sojourn into the desert to visit "The Elder" (see also Chapter 4); a self-finger-severing scene shamelessly borrowed from yakuza pictures (mercifully absent from Chapter 4). Had I seen this in 2019, the prospect of another sequel would have left me cold.

John Wick Chapter 4 (2023): 54/100

Just way the hell too much of a formerly good thing. Unlike Parabellum, which was almost absurdly front-loaded, this final(?) installment takes a small eternity to kick into gear, only to wind up more or less right where it had been last time around, with Wick hunted by dozens if not hundreds of anonymous baddies. Ostensible innovations include heavy-duty tactical gear and improbable Kevlar suits, requiring Wick to shoot dudes four or five times rather than just once (this mostly facilitates a lot of whirling: shoot Henchman A, turn to shoot Henchman B, turn back to shoot Henchman A again, 'cause the first shot failed to stop him), and incendiary blasts that actually set people spectacularly aflame—which, again, is the kind of thing you brainstorm when it seems as if you've exhausted every other ballistic avenue. Donnie Yen's a fine addition, though making his character Zatoichi in all but name feels a bit sweaty; Scott Adkins wearing a fat suit and sporting gold teeth, on the other hand, brought back less-than-fond memories of the Bond series' Roger Moore era. (Say what you will about that franchise—it took 25 canonical features and nearly 60 years before we were asked to sit through something longer than freakin' Ran and Stalker.) I found Bill Skarsgård far more threatening in Barbarian, playing someone who's actively trying not to be threatening, and "Mr. Nobody"—who's introduced seemingly working to keep Wick alive until his bounty reaches some specific figure, a potentially terrific idea that goes nowhere—ultimately serves so little purpose that he just becomes a passive spectator at the finale, watching right along with us. Yeah, there's a bravura stretch in (ugh) hour three, culminating in the genuinely great Sacré-Cœur steps sequence...but even that involves ludicrous escalation, e.g. having Wick get hit by a car three different times in quick succession. John Wick made an impression nine years ago by eschewing this sort of grandiosity, keeping its hero's objective down and dirty (with the assassin underworld and economy as light flavoring). The last thing I wanted was to see it become just another property that'll keep ballooning indefinitely.