Chapter 3, and Keanu Reeves’ nihilistic Assassinate-the-Assassin John Wick saga hits the law of diminishing returns . . . except at the box-office. Trying to top himself, director Chad Stahelski and his writers go for bloat: more footage (er, digital data*); more bespoke black suits; more choreographed killings; more showy guest stars (an amusing Anjelica Huston; a disastrously serious Halle Berry). This time, Wick’s on the run with a 14 mill price on his head for breaking House Rules at the Hit Man’s Hilton run by Ian McShane . . . and everybody wants to collect. Fortunately, the film is at its (negligible) best in its opening and closing 20 minutes; it’s that middle hour & a half that gets you down. Especially an irritating enforcer character named the Adjudicator, she’s a drag. Worse, the martial arts set pieces go on and on . . . and on, looking more like one of those trick pool shots carefully designed to sink all the balls with a tap, than like a kinetic action sequence. Maybe skip the center (the yucky nougat in a chocolate cordial) and just watch the ‘top’ and ‘tail,’ while hoping for rejuvenated revenge from a cool, rather than bedraggled Keanu in the inevitable Chapter 4 all but announced here.
ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: -- *Chapter 1 - 101 minutes; Chapter 2 - 122; Chapter 3 - 131.
SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Golden Age Hollywood sequels were progressively downsized (see THE THIN MAN series), but James Bond changed the equation when lean/mean GOLDFINGER/’64 led to the longer, more expensive, generally inferior THUNDERBALL/’65. (Which then significantly out-grossed all its predecessors.)
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