John Wick: Chapter 2 (2017)

Keanu Reeves reprises his role as a pining hitman in this sequel to 2014’s John Wick, a surprise hit which won over action aficionados with a minimalist revenge plot and meticulously choreographed violence. Director Chad Stahelski’s follow-up is simulatenously better, worse, and just more of the same.

My favorite aspect of the original was the surprisingly fantastical universe it existed in, a world of shadowy mobsters and secret hideouts which seemed borrowed from a non-existent source material and helped differentiate what would otherwise just be a well-executed direct-to-video action movie. Chapter 2 picks up where the original left off and does an even better job fleshing out this pulpy milieu. The film has an unexpectedly gothic and brooding tone, with spectacular, rich cinematography that conjures a European arthouse film. The writers are even so bold as to pack this shoot em ‘up with plenty of references and nods to classical interpretations of the afterlife.

But while the filmmakers clearly savor the opportunity to put on existential airs, John Wick: Chapter 2 is really just another one of the  “I was out and they pulled me back in story” stories already covered in untold crime films. Reeves, who spends a lot of time looking forlorn beneath a soccer mom haircut, is unable to make the character seem anything more than a cypher.

Undoubtedly, the sheer incongruity of John Wick: Chapter 2’s tone and content makes for an interesting mix of high and low brow. Unfortunately, I personally just couldn’t get past the film’s almost absurdly reverent gun porn. There are multiple extended sequences of our hero running around shooting people directly in the head, another in which he fires his gun at a crowded concert. While I have no problem with onscreen violence, these long interludes, which are divorced from storytelling function or dramatic tension (of course we know Wick will not be harmed), serving as little more than masturbatory gunplay with a fetishization for exploding heads. We are not just talking about car chases and fist fights here. It seems almost impossible than an otherwise intelligent film made in this country at this time would present this as mindless entertainment without commentary or insight.

Typically in horror films, a violent or traumatic event is the basis for an exploration of our relationship to it, a way of talking about the otherwise unspeakable. Even in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s campy action classics, the violence is so heightened that it is often barbarically comic. The gun violence in John Wick is not probing or facetious, nor is it cathartic. Watching this American film from the year 2017, I had to keep asking myself, “Is this still fun?”