One of the special features on the Blu-ray release of John Wick is a throwaway promo piece called “Don’t F*#% with John Wick.” In a more-perfect, less-PC world, that would have been the film’s title. Heck, I’d settle for it being the tagline, as those five words possess a surplus of cock-rockin’ attitude, whereas the two here … I can’t think of a more inert name in action-movie history. A wick is a part of a candle, for God’s sake, yet this flick is all about the fuse.
Proving once again that he is most effective playing characters who speak softly and carry a big ol’ gun, Keanu Reeves is Wick, your average strong, silent, stoic type. Mere days after the death of his beloved wife (Bridget Moynahan, Battle: Los Angeles), the grieving Wick receives a gift from beyond the grave, so to speak, arranged by the missus prior to expiration: the cutest widdle beagle you ever did see — house-trained, even! At a gas station, snot-nosed Russian criminal Iosef (Alfie Allen, TV’s Game of Thrones) takes note of the pup and Wick’s suh-weet ’69 Mustang. When Wick politely shuns Iosef’s purchase offer, the Russkie is so enraged that he breaks into Wick’s place that night and beats him up. And steals the car. Oh, and kills the dog, just to make certain audiences will be all-in on Wick’s side.
What Iosef doesn’t know (presumably because he doesn’t check LinkedIn): Wick is a retired assassin — one of the best. Knowing that Wick will exact revenge, Iosef’s pot-smoking pop, New York crime lord Viggo (Michael Nyqvist, clearly relishing the chance to embody a hammier version of his Mission: Impossible — Ghost Protocol villain), places a $2 million bounty on his former employee’s stringy-haired head. That kind of dough tends to bring out a stack of applicants; playing the more notable sharpshooters are Adrianne Palicki (G.I. Joe: Retaliation) and Willem Dafoe (The Grand Budapest Hotel).
The directorial debut of Chad Stahelski, Reeves’ longtime stunt double (Constantine, The Matrix trilogy and Man of Tai Chi, Reeves’ own surprisingly formidable behind-the-camera birth), John Wick is the rare eight-digit action pic with an A-list star that earned considerable critical acclaim. Yes, the movie makes for a terrific time, but it also arrives to home video a tad overpraised; had Reeves not been in a box-office slump for the better part of the past decade — especially nipping at the heels of 2013’s epic-disastrous 47 Ronin — I suspect the buzz barely would have reached a mild boil.
That’s not to say John Wick isn’t well-built or well-oiled — far from it. Stahelski keeps things moving at a dizzying pace and his neon-and-nighttime transition shots would have Michael Mann nodding like a proud papa. The balls aren’t just to the wall — they’re framed by Hobby Lobby. It’s just that the film isn’t a game-changer of the genre; the main reason for its Welcome Wagon reception is that it doesn’t do what so many expected it to: suck. —Rod Lott
Co-produced by James Franco, the documentary 
