John Wick: Chapter 4 - Yeahhhhhhh

In its fourth and possibly finest chapter, Keanu Reeves and Chad Stahelski celebrate the history of action cinema, two chest shots and one headshot at a time

There’s an argument I’ve seen gathering steam online and in some reviews that the exponentially elaborate insanity of the John Wick sequels somehow sullies the purity of the original, with its hilariously straightforward story of dog and car oriented revenge. I do believe sequel bloat is a real and terrible thing so this is a sentiment I can usually get on board with;  I’m a card-carrying ‘The Terminator is better than T2’ bore, and in fact one of my biggest fears for John Wick: Chapter 4 was that it would be The Raid 2, 2.0 – an array of ground-breaking, technically stunning carnage that nevertheless ends up strangled and diluted by a lengthy, generic pile of nothing crime plot.

Obviously I needn’t have worried – I am genuinely invested in these characters, the Continentals, the High Table et al, in a way that I am with few other ‘franchises’ (I truly hate having to use this word). But, even putting aside the fact I think the byzantine assassin fuckery that has become the series’ trademark is genuinely good, I struggle to see how you could actually enjoy and appreciate the first John Wick on its own terms, then take a look at what the series has turned into, an ever-escalating, visually stunning, tonally perfect, they-can’t-keep-getting-away-with this celebration of the craft and craftswomen of action cinema that blows away all but a handful of action movies from the past 30 years, and then think: nah, I’m good thanks.

Traditional action movies - focused on physical prowess and practical stuntwork - were flatlining in 2014, with the superhero hostile takeover in full swing and threatening to put two in the chest and one in the head of the entire genre, to the point where John Wick nearly didn’t get a theatrical release at all, hovering around without a distributor until the very last minute. It’s largely through the success of these sequels, and their showcasing of action talent from around the world, that action movies have been given a future at all. How is this series anything other than the best case scenario, the brightest possible timeline? And the exhaustingly brilliant John Wick: Chapter 4, regardless of future sequels and spin-offs, feels like the culmination of Stahelski and Reeves’s achievement.

It's a shame that we completely burned out on Tarantino comparisons in the nineties and rendered them essentially meaningless, because I think the John Wick saga is the closest thing we have had to the actual spirit of the Tarantino found working in Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, Inglourious Basterds et al – hyper-kinetic pop cultural remixes, made by highly skilled filmmakers possessing a devout reverence for the past, an unimpeachable collection of rare VHS tapes, and an intense loyalty to the genre trailblazers who have come before. They’re intent on playing the hits while at the same time delighting in using their comprehensive knowledge and understanding to show you things on screen you have never seen before, and never thought possible. But because Reeves, Chad Stahelski, and their team only really only care about action movies, and ‘low’ culture (the John Wick films correctly identify post-modernism as for cowards) – and what’s more, they also only seem to care about this one character – they’ll be seen as franchise guys and lumped in with the Marvel dross, not getting close to the kind of critical adulation reserved for the likes of QT. This lack of respect is a tale as old as time when it comes to action movies. But you cannot tell me that these films do not come from a similarly deep well of scholarship and love, and I’d argue they are executed at least the same level of skill and elan as anything else currently found in cinemas.

Starting with John Wick 2, the aperture deliberately widened on the insane league-of -assassins mythology at the core of this series to encompass every major beat in action cinema from the past fifty years; a heady blend of Sergio Leone, heroic bloodshed, chambara samurai cinema, Bond movie, John Carpenter neo-Westerns, Shaw Brothers kung fu and one man army Rambocore, while also dropping in textures from Vertigo Comics and 2000AD, and video games such as Metal Gear Solid and Hotline Miami. And at no point in the series have the movies worn their references on their sleeve more obviously or aggressively than in this fourth instalment – there are ‘references’ here to Lawrence of Arabia and The Warriors, in particular, so incredibly straightforward and earnest that they feel more like the sober genuflection of apprentices as they pass through town, rather than fun easter eggs included to inspire a Reddit post.

And much like Tarantino, the Wick team take it as their personal responsibility to showcase and highlight actors important to them and their chosen field, actors, martial artists and performers who are beloved by aficionados but not necessarily as meaningful to the (Western) mainstream. Traditional action movies are definitely clawing their way back to relevance in that sphere, thanks to the success of cinema de Tom Cruise and (and you have to give them their due here) investment from the streamers.

But there was a long period there post the hard-bodied heyday of Stallone and Schwarzenegger where the form was all but abandoned in favour of weightless CGI spectacle. During that time, standout stars around the world put the genre on their back, and some of the most talented screen performers we’ve ever seen were confined to local territories, or had to ply their trade in the DTV market. That handful of international talents and true believers have been working this whole time, and guess what? They’re all here! John Wick: Chapter 3 drafted in DTV king Mark Dacascos alongside the formidable Indonesian duo from The Raid movies, Yayan Ruhian and Cecep Arif Rahman, but John Wick: Chapter 4 broadens the roll call considerably, like if The Expendables was actually being done in good faith. You get Chile’s biggest action star in Marko Zaror (star of the very fun Mirage Man), doing great work in a key role as a top henchman; then the legendary Hiroyuki Sanada brings both gravitas and serious fighting ability to his role as head of the Osaka Continental, as befits someone equally at home in an intimate period drama like the wonderful Twilight Samurai, as he is in something as balls out silly as Ninja in the Dragon’s Den.

Best of all, however, are the roles provided for two bona fide action legends. Scott Atkins, a quite spectacularly talented martial artist and a man able to elevate the trashiest DTV movie to - at worst - watchability through sheer force of physical will, has a frankly staggering amount of fun in his role as a gigantic, Wilson Fisk-esque mob boss. Chewing the scenery before roundhousing a chunk of it directly into your face, the man is a charisma machine and it is mind-boggling how he isn’t one of the biggest movies stars in the world.

Now Donnie Yen actually is one of the biggest movie stars in the world, which is why it is saying something that this almost feels like a breakout performance, nearly forty years into his stellar career. Playing a Zatoichi-esque blind assassin with divided loyalties, I’ve never seen an English-language performance from him that is this soulful, this funny, while he is still able to deliver the insane balletic choreography that by this point we expect of him. In a film of all time performers delivering some of the best work of their careers, he still manages to stand out.

And this who’s who of action greats feels in no way cynical or calculated, in the way that, say The Fast and the Furious franchise does, which often feels like it casts its films and plans its setpieces on the basis of guaranteeing a strong opening weekend from a a certain international marketer. Instead, it feels in the tradition of those classic martial arts movies, that would pluck non acting martial artists like Benny ‘The Jet’ Urquidez or Cythian Rothrock directly from tournaments and then build a film around them, showcasing their physical talent and playing to their strengths, saying ‘Holy shit, have you seen what this guy can do?’

And while he’s probably not managing the high kicks any more, no one’s strengths are played to more, and no one does more with less in this film than Keanu, who, it’s time to say right now, is the greatest action movie star who has ever lived. Point Break, Speed, The Matrix, and the John Wick saga – a quite insane legacy. No one can else can touch him for longevity, consistency, and commitment to bringing the genre forward, except for perhaps Tom Cruise, but I’d argue he has some catching up to do (run, Tom!). Sure, he reads his lines at 0.5x speed with that uniquely constipated cadence, but it works, dammit; he will always be the reason these films hang together as well as they do.

Firstly, he is so universally beloved and admired that he’s basically the only actor who can get away with portraying the sadism of Wick himself without it becoming unpalatable. Can you imagine if it was, I don’t know, Adam Driver brutally butchering this many people? Awful. That’s a character that should be in prison, dog or no dog. It also means that when it’s time to deliver some pathos Keanu can manage it in a look, a glance, keying us into our perception of his innate goodness and our shared understanding of some of his tragic personal history. One aside he makes during a rare quiet scene genuinely moved me to tears, and in the previous scene alone he probably killed forty people. And I mean killed the absolute shit out of them. That’s fucking range.

Surely acting is at least 75% about how you you use your body, anyway, and the unique appeal of Wick’s action set pieces is that they are built around Reeves’s physical ability to sell exhaustion and struggle incredibly effectively – every increasingly lengthy encounter is him overcoming insurmountable odds, and almost succumbing. Every enemy feels like a genuine threat, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, and you lean into that tension every single time.

It’s also why the complaints over the film’s length are missing the point: John Wick: Chapter 4 sees Wick face his biggest struggle yet, so of course it’s three hours long. It is supposed to put you through the ringer alongside him, and you’re supposed to come out of it feeling punch drunk, in the same way you do coming out of Aliens, and The Matrix, and Fallout, and Fury Road and all the classics of the genre, modern or otherwise. This maximalism is hilariously lampshaded in one scene near the end, which is one part myth of Sisyphus, two parts Homer’s gurney repeatedly plummeting down the side of the gorge, and entirely awesome.

I am not going to talk in detail about the action sequences here. If you’ve seen them you know that they’re all-time exceptional, if you haven’t, you deserve not to be spoiled. I’m not going to talk about Bill Skarsgard’s sinister pastry eating, or the promising breakout performance from Shamier Anderson, or a veneer-stuffed Ian McShane mining hitherto undiscovered seams of camp with some of the more deranged line deliveries you’ll ever hear. I’m only going to briefly mention the poignancy of seeing Lance Reddick on screen for the final time. I’m not going to talk about the cinematography, although I probably should, as it’s increasingly rare for any movie to look this good now, let alone blockbusters, And I’m certainly not going to talk about the plot (the plot is that John Wick must survive), or the inevitable yawning plot holes. I will say the climax is deeply, deeply satisfying.

I just wanted to talk about how much I loved this film, and how much I love this series, and that it exists. It is so obvious to me that it was made by people who know and care about this stuff, and that’s enough of a rarity in blockbuster film-making now that it really is, to borrow a phrase from our laconic king, breathtaking to watch play out. After narrowly avoiding the DTV mines, Stahelski and Reeves have taken every bit of opportunity that has come their way and used it to continually up the ante, raising the bar for what can be done on screen and creating something generous and beautiful for lifelong action fans like me.

My only concern upon leaving the cinema was, well, that can never be topped – but then I thought the same about The Raid, and then Fury Road, and then Fallout. The spirit of one-upmanship is the story of the genre, and why it’s so essential and meaningful. Regardless of what the future holds for movies as a whole, there will always be an audience for this level of craft and ingenuity – no other genre of movie can exhilarate and delight in quite the same way, or places quite the same focus on human creativity and endurance. Yes, the John Wick series is a load of fighting setpieces strung together, but it is also one of the most effective celebrations of international cinema I’ve ever seen, and a towering, historic achievement: sound and fury, signifying everything. Yeah, I’m thinking action movies are back.