Keanu Reeves plays John Wick. He’s the baddest of the bad. As the film’s villain puts it, and I’m paraphrasing, Wick is a really tough character. He’s the guy you send to get rid of the people you think are really bad and nasty.
Or to put it another way, he’s the true bogeyman.
After meeting his wife, Wick retired from the job of killing people. Flash forward a few years. The film opens just after he buries his beloved. But just before her death, she bought a puppy for him that was delivered the day of her funeral.
The son of a Russian mobster sees Wick at a gas station in his classic Mustang. He wants to buy it. Wick says no. That night the son and his goon friends invade Wick’s home, beat him to a pulp, trash the place, kill the dog and take the car.
Vengeance becomes his focus.
John Wick is directed by two first-time directors. They are former stunt coordinators David Leitch and Chad Stahelski whose résumés include Conan the Barbarian, The Expendables 2 and The Hunger Games. And it was written by first-time screenwriter Derek Kolstad.
Even if you didn’t know that, it’s easy to guess. The dialogue is terrible and the film morphs from one well-done action sequence to the next with very little in-between.
This is where the head scratching starts. Is it really that the movie is awful or is it bad deliberately? Reeves always has been quite likable and decent at tongue-in-cheek comedy and high-level action flicks, but you’d never confuse him for a skilled thespian.
That’s a good thing because he has little to do in John Wick but kick butt. And I still enjoyed the hell out of it.