Before the “John Wick” series turned into a globe-trotting martial arts opera and one of the most bankable action movie franchises in recent history, we had a man and his dog. More specifically, we had Keanu Reeves – an actor who, much like the titular character, was coming out of retirement intent on showing everyone what he was still capable of (the guy was still getting paid to appear in movies but I think we can call the three-film run of Generation “Um,” “Man of Tai Chi,” and “47 Ronin” a tour of the old-age home at least). With “John Wick,” every element slid perfectly into place to deliver us an instantly iconic, delectable piece of dad cinema.
We are introduced to our icy protagonist immediately following the death of his wife. In his grief, he leads a quiet life looking after his dog, a gift from his departed wife. His grief-ridden solitude is violently interrupted after a gas station confrontation with Iosef Tarasov (Alfie Allen), the son of Viggo Tarasov (Michael Nyqvist), a powerful Russian crime boss. After John refuses to sell him his Mustang, Iosef, the smug and naive fool that he is, makes a series of mistakes. He and his lackeys break into John Wick’s home. They rough him up, steal his car, and most of all … they kill his dog. Big mistake.
“John Wick is a man of focus, commitment, sheer will,” Viggo tells his son in a chilling monologue chronicling the retired hitman’s career. Nyqvist is perfect in this scene, chewing up just the right amount of scenery, lending a certain theatrical touch as if to clarify to the audience exactly what kind of man we’re dealing with here. They call him “Baba Yaga,” Russian for the Boogeyman. But as Viggo aptly points out, “He’s not exactly the Boogeyman. He’s the man you send to kill the Boogeyman.” We’re not being told everything about Wick’s former life, but we’re being told enough to know that things won’t end well for Iosef. This conversation is intercut with Wick screaming as he slams the concrete of his basement with a sledgehammer. We see him digging up a trove of weaponry and with it, the past he tried so hard to leave buried.
After failing to take Wick out in his own home, Iosef hides out in what seems to be a heavily guarded, deluxe bath house that doubles as a nightclub. The music is blaring. The neon lights are flashing. And thus begins one of the most dynamic action set pieces in recent history, featuring some truly inspiring fight choreography. Wick takes out guard after guard with precision, grace, and aggression. It’s simply a joy to watch Reeves move.
I’ve always considered Reeves to be one of the great physical performers of all time, and here at 50 years old, he’s still as impressive as ever. Truly what other actor can convincingly hop up on a surfboard, dodge bullets and also display a mastery of “Gun fu.”
“John Wick” is propulsive, clocking in at just under 95 minutes of runtime. Every story beat is hit with pinpoint accuracy and the film is so confidently directed. The sequels are just as good, if not better, serving up even more elaborate fight sequences and expanding on an intriguing mythology within the hitman universe. But there’s something to be said for the simplicity of the first film. It’s lean, stylish, and contains every component you could want in an action movie. It doesn’t bother trying to teach you a lesson. Well, except for maybe one: never mess with John Wick’s dog.
Luke Walsh can be reached at [email protected]
