Bullet Train may not be the worst action film released in the past year or even the past month, but it is the strongest indication yet the genre is circling the drain. At first, there is a promise of creative choreography, then director David Leitch repeats it until that initial creativity gives way to tedium. The script is glib and heavy on quips – Leitch also directed Deadpool 2 – and the jokes are not clever enough to support the script’s lopsided structure. Almost every character here gets a backstory, told primarily in flashback, which derails any potential suspense (pun intended). But the biggest issue, one that this film and its contemporaries fail to grasp, is more fundamental than that. It supplies zero emotional stakes.
Based off a Japanese novel, the film begins with Ladybug (Brad Pitt) searching for a suitcase on a Kyoto-bound train from Tokyo. His job would be simple, or at least that’s what his handler (Sandra Bullock) keeps assuring him, except the suitcase brings several other assassins to the train. To the credit of screenwriter Zak Olkewicz, Bullet Train realizes that motivations can be convoluted, so he initially defines the supporting characters with broad strokes and striking appearances. Bickering assassins Lemon (Bryan Tyree Henry) and Tangerine (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) are escorting a hostage (Logan Lerman) for a reward, while, while the innocent-looking Prince (Joey King) wants to boobytrap the briefcase. Through fights and negotiations, everyone realizes their common connection is The White Death (Michael Shannon), aka the most dangerous criminal in Japan.
At first, Bullet Train uses its constricted setting to its advantage. The choreography is necessarily compact, with the characters banging into cupboards, chairs and overhead luggage. When they’re stuck on board between stations, Olkewicz gives them plenty of time to bicker. Unfortunately, Leitch and Olkewicz lack the skill to leverage those limitations to their advantages. The characters are all given one particular eccentricity, whether it’s a hang-up or a pop culture obsession, and development stops short of anything beyond that. Lemon uses “Thomas the Tank Engine” to understand human nature, for example, while Ladybug tries to square the power of positive thinking with a job that requires combat. Another aspect of said positive thinking is that Ladybug avoids guns, leading to hand-to-hand combat where everything within reach is an improvised weapon. All this could be engaging, but then Bullet Train squanders the novelty through repetition, a deadly mistake for a genre where surprise is an important part of a filmmaker’s toolkit.
The reliance on flashback is another way the film diminishes its sense of surprise. Not every character requires a complex motivation, and yet there are scenes where even characters without any dialogue get their due. John Wick must be a major motivator, as these digressions are a way to humanize deadly assassins. The crucial difference, however, is a matter of structure. There is a long meditation on grief before John Wick unleashes the fury, which makes his vengeance all the more satisfying. Bullet Train, on the other hand, scrambles the traditional build-up and release of tension (i.e. action first, motivation later). Background details are an afterthought, leading to a growing sense of apathy. By the time multiple flashbacks slow down the climax, Bullet Train is practically stalling. At just two hours, a film full of action rarely seems this long.
Leitch and Olkewicz must realize they have thin material, so they overcompensate with bright colors and the occasional surprise cameo. One cameo is admittedly funny because the actor has the confidence to mock himself, while the other serves as a symbol of how modern action is terminally self-satisfied. On top of that, the film’s approach to world-building involves flashy title cards and advertisements for fake Japanese cartoons. Come to think of it, some of that product placement is genuine: in one brazen sequence, Leitch interrupts the final showdown to present an advertisement for Fiji Water. It is a bad look for a film where every actor is meant to look as cool as possible.
When action films increasingly value style over suspense, Bullet Train is the inevitable conclusion. Most of actors treat their situation with detachment, and so we follow their example. Even Brad Pitt, one of the most charismatic actors working today, cannot elevate Ladybug beyond violent doofus shtick. Leitch and his collaborators forget that action classics are classics because they have the patience to invest in the emotional reality of their protagonists. Irony and wisecracks are not so appealing at the forefront, so maybe we do not need another self-aware ensemble piece, but a “meat and potatoes” action film that has fallen out of fashion because, well, they are harder to make. At its cynical core, we cannot care about this film because it does not seem to care about itself, either.
Photo courtesy of Columbia Pictures
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