The Wins and Losses of JOHN WICK CHAPTER 4 (Patreon)

I’ve found that when I write about a recent blockbuster, unless I have a single solitary take that fits into an essay, I’ve started deferring to this “wins and losses” format as a quick and easy way to break down an initial opinion and go on some tangents. But please know that I’m not crazy about the verbiage of the title. It’s just a more direct way of saying “the things I liked and didn’t like as much.” But I’ll stick with it for now, I guess. Especially because it allows me to talk about a film in a way that is both granular and full of broad strokes.

Oh, and Spoilers for the new film, JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4!

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BIG WINNER - Donnie Freaking Yen!!! - My greatest fear for this movie was that they would waste the great Donnie Yen. Sure, I knew he’d likely get to show off his impressive skills in a single fight, but I was afraid he would get saddled with a lot of heavy, stilted characterization that would likely be limited within a sequence. But instead, he kind of gets to do EVERYTHING and is somehow even more the lead of the movie!?!!? I mean, he even gets to have fun!!!! Because that’s the whole advantage of having him, right? Yen is so charming and hilarious, plus he has this great oddball energy and the movie can take full advantage of it. To wit, he got almost every laugh and clap from the audience I saw it with yesterday. But this fun loving side of him is also what makes the dramatic moments where he expresses pathos and regret hit even harder. All and all, Yen’s moments / sequences are everything positive that these Wick movies can be. But that is not to ignore the main man in question…

WINNER - Keanu Reeves - Watching Keanu become one of the most beloved figures in media over the last thirty plus years has been a wonderful journey. Time and time again he has found this way to break through and keep giving us great films on top of his great, calming persona. But the thing that makes him work in the John Wick movies is a very simple magnetism that he can hold even in stillness. I was recently listening to Griffin Newman talk about The Matrix and he put it simply regarding Keanu, “he’s one of our best physical actors.” Which is not just a comment about his stunt work and martial arts abilities, but the way he brings that to his dialogue-driven performances. Often, it’s in the way he postures and looks and uses his body to communicate different energies. And to that credit, you always know what his character is feeling, which is precisely what makes for a great actor. And yes, it’s also what makes for a great action star. I kept watching him in Chapter 4 and thinking “it feels reductive, but no one is better at holding a gun.” And as for the big standoffs in the film with Donnie Yen, it actually made me think of an interesting anecdote…

WINNER - A Lovely Comparison - It’s often been said that action choreography is less about being good at fighting and more about being good at dance. Which makes perfect sense. Action choreography is it’s hitting your steps, nailing the motions, and being in lock-step with your partners. But I also love the comparison because I love old musicals and the old song and dance men of Hollywood’s Golden Age. Specifically, the two titans of musical cinema A.K.A. Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire. But any time there are two titans of a given industry there is this inevitable argument about who is better. It’s Keaton vs. Chaplin, Magic vs. Bird, or Coke vs. Pepsi. And people loved to do the same with Kelly and Astaire. To be clear, it’s kind of a stupid thing to actually ARGUE about, but there’s differences of essence and people can feel closer to one than the other. Which leads to this probably totally apocryphal story that was echoed by an old film teacher. He said that Kelly was always asked time and time and time again by the press or on sets whether he thought he was a better dancer than Astaire and one day Kelly finally broke down and said something like “look, compared to Astaire, I am a heffer.” Now, a heffer is not quite the same negative connotation you may be thinking of, but instead the negative connotation in dancer terminology in that he is one who awkward clomps around with a seeming lack of grace. Again, this story is likely apocryphal and I’ve never been able to find anything even referencing it, especially given that he two always liked each other. But what the quote kind of reflects is the two styles. Kelly has this intense, exaggerated motion as he uses his whole body like a living cartoon character and seemingly works up a sweat. And yet Astaire’s moves feel like he’s gliding on air and hitting the same steps without so much of worry (you can see it all in this video of them dancing together).  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKapFZt-sO0&ab_channel=Claq%26Co-TapDanceSpecialist   Anyway, the whole point of me bringing it up is that it was something going through my mind as I watched Keanu and Yen. Granted, this duality is something you could project onto any number of great action stars, but I really thought about it here. For Reeves, there’s that workman-like grit, never missing a step and taking the brunt of every hit as he simultaneously hits every mark. Seeing the sweat is part of what makes him human. And for Yen just has that incredible effortless grace that few ever can imagine a human being possess. And given his humbleness, you could imagine Reeves agrees with their distinction. And for all this action, you can also imagine they both would be quick to first sing the praises of…

WINNER - Scott Rogers and Stephen Dunlevy - I’ve said it before, but Stunt folks are pretty much my favorite people in the industry. They’re so full of energy and life and excitement and they’re so committed to fostering the realism of what ends up on screen. Rogers has been working in the industry for over 40 years (and his partner Dunlevy for about half of that). And you look at the stunt work of all their films and they’re just so incredible. To show this, here’s a tip: on your second viewing, watch them carefully. Because the whole idea is that you should be watching the star of the film, right? But when you actually watch the stunt teams closely you see the genius of what they do. It’s the way they sell their snaps and flail their arms to make the heroes look so good. And they’re also so damn good at making pained, agonized faces as they get torn apart (likely multiple times throughout a film like this). My point is that they’re INCREDIBLE actors all the same, for it is the art of using their bodies to communicate feelings and story. And this film in particular is one of the best celebrations of them that I’ve probably seen in a long while. But speaking of great action talent, we got a little fun surprise in this one…

WINNER - Scott Adkins Getting To Be A Big Little Stinker - I literally can’t believe I didn’t recognize him at first, but yes, the big husky villain guy is none other than that B Movie / DTV hero de jour Scot Adkins. He’s precisely the kind of guy who could have had an action career like Seagal or Van Damme if he was born at the right time (when those movies could be long plays in theaters), but instead he’s had to carve out his career in our different modern sphere. But he’s nonetheless deeply appreciated by the action community and many in the industry. And here, he gets to play a big stinker jerkface (coincidentally, much in vain of what Farrell does as The Penguin in The Batman). These movies are at their best when they open up and have fun and here Adkins is getting to go hog wild as he can. I endorse it.

WINNER - Big Production Filmmaking! - Do you know how much fun it is to see characters running around real, famous locations and doing all their shooty shoot fun? Yes, it is SO MUCH fun! Especially in a world where more and more blockbusters are cobbled together on green screen sound stages and Atlanta parking lots with actors who weren’t even there on the same day. Simply put, I love when productions take the time to go places, shut things down, and then show you the money up on screen. To be clear: Yes, I know the parking lot blockbusters are miracles of over-worked, underpaid digital artists much the same. And yes, I know how much CGI is used in added capacity in these Wick sequences, too. And double yes, you can see the mostly digital shots where they likewise fudged it. But you also see all the times they don’t. And that means you get to see the way the stars and stunt folks crash and fall along the famous two hundred steps near Sacre Coeur. And this allows them to hang their hat on the grand aspirations of the work itself. Speaking of which…

WINNER - Goofy Cinematic Allusions - I say the word “goofy” here with love because they literally do the match to sunset cut from Lawrence of Arabia. And to do so outright is to engage in cinematic allusion with a goofy sense of fun. Can you imagine any other series that could just do the same dang thing without it being parody OR a cloying rip-off? That’s the weird magic of these films. And you’ll see it everywhere in this one. Especially in the film’s terrific final ongoing sequence, which showcases everything from Barry Lyndon, to The Warriors, to Shane. Again, do not mistake this for the filmmakers trying to ape at greatness. They are using these cinematic gestures to say “movies are fun.” Which they are. And this fun can make The Money People behind them very happy…

WINNER - Lionsgate - Lionsgate has this odd knack for carving out the franchises that seemed like they fall between the cracks of what other studios are interested in, first by jumping on Twilight / The Hunger Games before others and now by trading in a lot of the mid-level genre fare that the Disneys of the world seem completely uninterested in even pursuing… We’ll see what strategy will end up having the longer legs. But with all that said…

There’s a couple of less winning things that I keep coming back to.

BREAKING EVEN -  The Cast Ensemble - I wish everyone could truly shine in this movie because so often they do in this series. But here some things feel…uneven? The great Lance Reddick is a perfect example of this. He’s so great in these films, but there’s a sudden push / pull to his death in this film. There’s no way they could have never known how it would soon have a parallel in reality, but while you want so much more of what he’s great at, in the positive, it at least feels like an act of mourning in the film itself. But other great players feel like they caught up in the motions of the film’s plotting. Getting to watch Yen and Hiroyuki Sanada is a joy, but I have so many lingering story concerns about what the sequence and Rina Sawayama’s character were meant to add up to in terms of its effect on John’s character. I mean, the episode barely phases him. The same existential concern can be said from Shamier Anderson, an absolutely magnetic performer I’ve never seen before, who gets loads to play and do throughout. But as he sits watching from the park bench at the end I question what this “I’m out” realization in his storyline is even really trying to get at. Is this some kind of anti-greed treatment? Is he actually noping out of the system? Is the film even really trying to engage these ideas or did they just want a cool guy with another dog? I get touches, but nothing more pointed. And honestly, all these questions bring us into the deeper question of the movie itself…

LOSS - Writing and Conflict Mechanics - So I’m going to be blunt. On a pure dramatic level, I think the writing of these movies have gotten increasingly boring. Again, the films themselves are full of all the bells and whistles of performance and feats of production that can stir us on a pure cinematic level. And it is very okay that these stories are sparse (it is a boon even). But movies, at their core, are stories that depend on a simple dramatic thrust. What’s perhaps telling is that at its start, John Wick was famously made by having the simplest dramatic thrust imaginable: THEY KILLED HIS DOG, DAMMIT! But even in the third act of the first movie (post dog revenge) they started taking this dramatic tact that’s… a bit odd. Where the final stand-off of that first film should feel full of operatic emotion and regret about that colleague / friend now having to go after John for killing his Small Adult Son, there’s this weird feeling “going through the motions” that comes out in their stoic performances. And it is this attitude that becomes more and more pronounced with every film.

To be clear, most movies have to reset conflicts and alliances within themselves in order to give a sense of momentum, otherwise they feel static. A film like The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly is actually a masterclass in how to do this, always nestling new alliances and objectives as the characters all strive for the inevitable goal. We are taught so many clear ways to do this. But the motivations in these new films always feel tacked on from the last film, and often blurred and obscured as he keeps diving into an endless world of new players, new threats, and new allies and double crossers - but instead of clamping them onto deep clarity and want - it clamps them onto this constant reflexive philosophy, along with a “c'est la vie” attitude of uncaring. But this is diametrically opposed to its end goal. And you can feel like the movie KNOWS on some level that these resets should be clicking harder. That you should like person X and hate person Y, but instead of properly motivating it all just keeps getting washed in the “going through the motions” of the system. Which is probably why the characters keep meeting John and constantly ask him “why?” We’re all trying to clamp onto the same reason. And sometimes John gives us little breadcrumbs, he tells us to remember, as if every murder is a continued act of mourning… but they’re actually asking an important question… and I’m not sure the movie ever has a meaningful in-text answer. Which brings us to…

BIGGEST LOSS - The Point - I want something to be clear. I love action movies. And the idea behind the clear rooting mechanics I mention above is to make them function well. Because, yes, violence IS a gnarly thing to watch. But it’s also a heightened cinematic effect that is reflective of the nature of consequence. Which is a thing we do with ALL stories. Horror is the same with the effect of terror and violence illustrating bigger moral systems and feelings. And it’s the same dramatic tragedies, comedies, sci-fi, and fantasy alike. They are all heightened systems of consequence, aimed at different emotions. Which is why an action movie is not about what you think about action. The action is just a cause and effect way of reflecting what you think about the world. And the gnarly-ness is precisely the reason why simple narratives soar. We want to watch Wick get the asshole who killed his dog so we can feel catharsis when he dies. Or in The Raid, we want to see him go to get his brother out from the den of criminals he’s fallen in with, just as we want him to survive for his pregnant wife at home (and it’s what allows all the betrayals to feel like a dramatic obstacle to those causes). And at its best, a film like Mad Max Fury Road becomes transcendent because it uses all the language of action as this grand metaphorical telling of how to undo a patriarchal capitalist society while having a character realize they are not loners, but part of a bigger world. The action is the mechanism. The story is the story.

This is where the recursive and repitive nature of the story in the John Wick sequels becomes troubling. Because it always just ends up feeling like the reason behind all these story choices is so that there can be more action. On some level, we know this is an inherent aspect of action films. We want to see heroes do cool stuff. But the films that are better subverting that in the name of social cause (like Fury Road) or at least hiding that (like The Raid) are the ones that grab us most. Because when you don’t have that deeper sense of motivational cause? You feel the palpable lack of energy in the audience. And it always makes the violence feel a little more cruel and sad then it does “Fuck Yeah!” to a general audience. To their credit, you can feel that the John Wick sequels feel this too. They KNOW there has to be more fuel to this fire, but I think they make two mistakes made in their process. The first is that it’s always invoking the fuel of the first film (the dog and his wife’s memory, etc) instead of creating the new. The second is by not going for more lowbrow human motivation and instead going highbrow and philosophical. It’s always quoting Dante or invoking the grander philosophies of great masters. And I think they do think about those ideas in what they’re portraying, it just never quite gets dramatized in the way that feels often repeated, never quite integrated, and about 1/10th as deep as the thing they’re invoking. In one way, this is okay. This is action fare that’s operating bare bones and I understand the inclination to give them a lot of credit for even invoking. But I feel like the audience is always, perhaps subconsciously, feeling the thinness of it all bucking under the massive weight of the characterization and sheer number of people being murdered in the name of “…?” I know we can always go back to the dog, but in action, you need the spirit of renewal. And propping up new hateable villain types never works unless it gets really personal.

For four films now the John Wick series has asked “where does this end?” and after a lot of shrugging and unsureness, finally we get one. But John’s quest comes with an equally big question mark for me. To be clear, I like the baseline mechanics of his duel with Yen and the Marquis gets got in a neat way. But as it all drifts back to the “home” of the grave, I do actually question the big “why” of what’s happened here ever since her passing. Because it’s a series that understands the mechanics of “blood will have blood” without ever seeming to tap into the idea the such mechanics are wrapped into the undoing of selfhood. I mean, should Wick’s revenge journey have been a cautionary tragedy? Or should Wick’s journey have been about changing the structure of the violent world around him, all in the name of supporting the quiet life he once held? Or was it ultimately about how we as humans are unable to do so? What, in any way, does he feel is gained in taking out a Marquis guy he didn’t know even existed days prior and what was achieved in final death? The answer is a little of all, but none in pointed focus. Which means the ending is, at once, a neat bow (that perhaps wraps things up for Yen more than anyone) and yet it leaves things in the same endless stasis it’s seemed to have since the end of the first film. Simply put: I don’t know why John’s death here has any more or less impact than if it came before or after in the story. It’s just happening now because it’s the end of the fourth film and Keanu seems very tired. But here’s what I wonder most of all…

Earlier I said the great thing about action is that it’s supposedly not about the action, and instead a great way to provide catharsis. Because you never want to root for the action itself. Because that’s where things get ugly. And what can we really say about a series whose only ongoing catharsis was “yes, there will be more action,” which we see now again in the promises of extended films and spin-offs? For all the aspirations of grandeur and philosophical import, the stasis is all we’re really left with, even at its supposed ending. And perhaps I just worry more than usual because it’s the thing that infects all franchises these days, regardless of finality. You see it in all the times I wrote about Marvel’s endless endgame and phase four glut. You see it in the way The Walking Dead ran for 12 seasons precisely because it promised its own brand of stasis in continued grisly visual death and empty underpinnings of the same cruelty. And in the age of the ongoing, empty cycles of many modern blockbusters, I guess I just worry most of all that that’s what most folks actually want?

All while deeper catharsis is left on The Table.

<3HULK