JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4 Review

Baba Yaga...we know him, we love him. But from the first frame of iteration four, something about this feels different. Tonally, it does hit the expected notes, but what stood out the most to me is the incongruity of that opening. The little extra element to it, a surprising kind of sharpness. The Why? to this is later addressed and then exclaimed in the finale, rendering this a warning shot. Both the audience and Wick are in for more in 4.

That is not to say we are deprived of Stahelski and Team's gorgeous, violent yields, as this moves action set piece to action set piece like we are accustomed. And, also in lockstep with its first three volumes, all of them ceaselessly rip. Never — despite the genre and repetition within — feeling stale or recurring. The weapons, the cars, the fights. The gang is indeed all here, but Chapter 4 still finds inventive hues to paint with. Sawayama using knives to climb a foe's back like a pegboard. Wick and the Sisyphean, celestial steps to the duel. The utter chaos of the fight at the Arc de Triomphe. And I'd be remiss not to mention the "No fucking way..."-inducing birds-eye fight with incendiary bullets. Such skill in giving you what you're there for, but delivering it in unexpected ways.

That blending of expectation and surprise is felt all over this. In the physical aspect of casting: Yen, Sanada joining in and not missing a single beat while Anderson, Sawayama, and Adkins provide the flip to that card. Yen's prowess is expected, but I was not ready for him to be this good with the pages supplied. Home run stuff. Anderson, with arguably even less clay, finds nuances in the offered and is fantastic. He steals multiple scenes a lesser performance wouldn't sniff at. With the above handling the physical portions, that great blend doesn't get lost in the audio, either. For large sections of this can feel like a silent film with fired bullets and a Gesaffelstein/Justice soundtrack, but they (again) take care in who they hire to do the heavy talking. Fishburne, McShane, Brown, Reddick. All great orators on screen, and they all get their time in the sandbox, too.

Like Keaton and Chaplin during that silent era, both the actors and stunt team involved will continue to be underappreciated in the full scope of the medium. They are doing ambitious but still pinpoint, brutal while winsome, elaborate yet populist work here. The technicals of it all are so stunning, like the storyboarded vision comes pre-processed for IMAX. This is, and I mean it in the strictest sense of the definition, an achievement.

And finally back to that finale. Wick, a man raging against the dying of the light for 3.85 films, meeting his conclusion only after obtaining one of the three raisons the Marquis claims he has none of. Only then can this franchise pull its greatest trick in that expectation/innovation arena. Amongst the shell casings, dripping blades, and all other collateral damage throughout the series, they have now crafted something unexpected: a beautiful ending.

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The above was taken from my Letterboxd review.