Here in Portland, it seems as if everyone either drives for Lyft and Uber, or they know someone who does. I think about all these people, waiting in their cars for a message to pop up on their phones telling them where the job begins, where the job ends and how much they will be compensated for their work. This network of drivers exists day and night. If one can’t do the job, another will.
In the world of John Wick, a cabal of assassins is connected in the same way Lyft/Uber drivers operate. There is a central hub that dispatches the assignments, they arrive via text (for some reason no one in John Wick’s New York carries smart phones) and, suddenly, the hunt is on. Either John Wick: Chapter 2 is a glimpse into a scary reality or a play on how the service industry is trending since the advent of these driving services and Airbnb.
In the first film, Keanu Reeves’ titular hit man is lured out of retirement to kick ass when the thugs that used to employ him beat the crap out of him and murder his dog. John Wick: Chapter 2 offers the same virtuosic ballet of bloodshed, yet with a higher ante. Both absurdist and gruesomely realistic, this sequel not only tops its predecessor but sets up what will likely be an exciting conclusion to this trilogy.
Director Chad Stahelski and writer Derek Kolstad kick things off with a prologue that slyly subverts expectation. Before the film began, my friend and I wondered what this part would be about since Wick effectively wiped out all his enemies in the first installment. “Maybe the bad guy has a brother or something,” I mused. And there it was. Peter Stormare cameos as a relative of one of the baddies from part one, but, no, he isn’t the big villain this time around. Rather, the story involves Wick being pulled from retirement again, this time by Santino D’Antonio (Riccardo Scamarcio), an Italian gangster who just happens to hold a blood oath that Wick agreed to so he could retire the first time. Santino wants Wick to go to Rome and assassinate his sister just as she ascends to a much-vaunted position in the syndicate.
When Wick refuses to do the job, all hell breaks loose and suddenly the film becomes a non-stop ride of glorious violence and revenge. John Wick died inside when his wife perished before Chapter One. He exists merely to keep her memory alive and kick ass. There are no romantic interests here or sub-plots involving friends or aging. Once the Boogeyman (as those who know Wick call him) is awakened, there is no going back. Stahelski guides Reeves, who really doesn’t say very much, through one exquisite set piece after another, leaving a trail of carnage behind as he once again tracks down the men and women who wronged him.
Watching John Wick: Chapter 2 is almost like reading a comic book drawn by Jean-Pierre Melville. Reeves exudes a casual coolness with this character not unlike Alain Delon emanated in Le Samouraï. Whether we’re following Wick through Roman catacombs or a crazed shoot-out in an interactive modern art display, Stahelski’s kinetic direction keeps things moving, even if there are way too many shots to the head. I can’t wait to see the third part.
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