John Wick: Chapter 4 (Lionsgate, R)

For a straight forward action series, the John Wick films have drummed up a blindingly large number of faithful fans. We have had action franchises in the past capable of drawing hordes of people to the theaters. I’m immediately reminded of The Expendables and The Matrix, the latter a series with huge cult and mainstream followings. The John Wick movies have led the more recent resurgence of action flicks by being two things primarily: spectacles chock full of practical stunts and excellent, grounded, brutal choreography, and tales tucked into a clandestine world of hierarchy and honor living just beneath our noses. Working out of hotels around the world, hitmen and contract killers, walking shoulder to shoulder with us, carrying out directives from an ever-illusive High Table or working alongside one of any number of crime families. It’s simple. Truly it is most effective because of this simplicity. You rarely find yourself questioning the world as much as you just buckle up and ride along with John as he marauds his way through swaths of goons for two hours. 

I can not emphasize enough how the little peeks we get at this worlds machinations drive my interest. The first film centers around a Russian mobster’s son, who assaults John in his home, steals his car, and kills the puppy his wife gave him. In perhaps my favorite scene from all four of these movies, this unfortunate young mobster takes John’s car to a chop shop run by John Leguizamo. When Leguizamo’s character realizes who’s care is in his shop he berates the kid and smacks him across the face. Later, daddy calls the chop shop to find out why his son was struck and Leguizamo simply replies, “He stole John Wick’s car.” The Mobster’s reply? “Oh…” He hangs up the phone. It’s perfect, because until this point we have no frame of reference for who John is. The Baba Yaga. A demon in a man’s skin. A vengeful spirit know for exacting his will on anyone and everyone once he has set his gaze. The subsequent films all attempt to swing the axe with this kind of gravity, and often land the strike, albeit with differing levels of effectiveness. But as things stand, going into this fourth and final installment of the John Wick saga, we know more than a few things about John and his world of assassination. 

The first, and most important thing we know about the world John Wick inhabits is, despite all of the trappings of respect and honor and loyalty, it has been made abundantly clear our hero is the victim of a terribly corrupt and morally bankrupt society. And I can hear people already taking the piss out of my saying this society of killers and criminals is morally bankrupt. But one doesn't have to look too far into the seams of the world we are shown to see this abundance of structure and regulation. John challenges this structure when it breaks down so much as to put him in a place where he is denied any possibility of peace. So he summons that wraith so many have heard stories of. Where the last film left us, I was convinced there was only one logical outcome for our hero. The High Table has to be brought down. The whole system needs to be rebuilt. Our first three movies showed us why, gave us a window into the means for their demise, provided an army for resistance, and a vessel for vengeance. Unfortunately, John Wick: Chapter 4 bobbles their best opportunity and replaces it with another, less gratifying conclusion to a character I’m convinced deserved better. 

In the place of our Baba Yaga tearing down the rotten castle, we are introduced to a new and despicable big bad, the French-bent Marquis. Bill Skarsgård is a very good bad guy. There is absolutely no refuting this. And his Marquis is jaw droppingly disrespectful. In his first moments on screen he gives us nearly a dozen reasons to despise him, and he never redeems himself. Truly, one of those bad guys you root against the entire movie. With his introduction coming after a bombastic opening where John makes it clear destruction is the only thing on his mind, this new baddie builds into this idea, this hope I held in my heart, that where we were going, what John was leading us toward, was going to play out like a Roman myth. For all intents and purposes, John is the Sword of Damocles, an apocryphal tale about the ever present danger dangling over the heads of those in power. Now this sword is sharp and aimed directly at the heart of the High Table. The Marquis recruits another assassin to hunt down John, another assassin that appears to be trying to distance himself from this underworld. Casting Donnie Yen in a John Wick movie is a dream come true. Making him blind is…mind-numbingly silly. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Chirrut Imwe in Rogue One. But he had the force to help. A blind Hitman in the John Wick world is…ridiculous. Donnie Yen is still amazing to watch, but his character being as efficient as he is feels supernatural in its best moments and just plain goofy in its worst. 

So here’s the whole plot of this movie. The Marquis, and by extension the High Table, have had it with John Wick and his destructive antics. So the Marquis has been tasked with bringing him down once and for all. Enter the blind assassin. Enter the destruction of a second Continental. Enter this movie’s very good job of getting you excited for John to tear it all down. The action choreography takes another step forward, blending the heart pounding back and for melee from the first three films and augmenting it with antics that would make Jackie Chan proud. Also, John Wick is visibly more tired in this movie, so a lot of his fights end on the ground, John panting for oxygen, surrounded by his fallen enemies. It all feels more personal and close and tactile. There is a scene in this movie, filmed form the top down in an apartment, where John dispatches a dozen hostiles with a shotgun loaded with dragon’s breath rounds. It’s so videogame adjacent that I was practically hollering from my seat. 

Honestly, this movie is a blast. The action is incredible, the choreography and cinematography are on point. The characters remain believable and motivated. I just wish, when it was all done, we were in a different place. There is resolution here, and I don’t mean to take away from that, but the resolution feels like it lacks impact. Largely because despite all John does, at the end of the film, the world is more or less unchanged. This could be for good or bad. It’s hard to tell if there will be more from this world in the future. John’s story is brought to a logical and earned conclusion, but the remaining world will continue. MY biggest question walking out of the theater is how? Without giving the end of the movie away, there are a multitude of avenues for future stories. The world is too big and rule bound to not have room for more tales. 

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, this is Charon’s last film. The New York Continental’s Concierge, played by the brilliant and deeply underrated Lance Reddick can be no more because Lance passed just this last week. Lance was known for so many iconic roles, but still seemed to slink just beneath the radar for most people. To me he was my Vanguard Commander, Zavala, in the Destiny game franchise. He was Charon, the most badass hotel concierge to ever exist (god damn did that man know how to wield a shotgun). He was a beacon of comedy, commitment, and courtesy in a world that will always have a need for bright smiles and brighter eyes. His death, at just 60 years old, is unfair and cruel, but something we as humans must make our peace with. My condolences go out to his wife and children, who are surely still finding a way to pick themselves back up and learn how to live without him. As one of his fans, seemingly surrounded by players and moviegoers alike, we hold his memory in the warmest and happiest places in our minds and hearts. For fellow Guardians, eyes up. Per Audacia ad Astra. For fellow patrons of the Continental, we will always hear his voice saying, “How good to see you again so soon, Mr. Wick.” Rest in peace Charon, Lance, Commander, friend, father, husband. It has been a pleasure, Mr. Reddick. Goodbye.