Cast: Keanu Reeves, Donnie Yen, Laurence Fishburne, Bill Skarsgård, Lance Reddick, Scott Adkins, Rina Sawayama, Hiroyuki Sanada, Shamier Anderson, Clancy Brown, Ian McShane
Director: Chad Stahelski
Writers: Shay Hatten, Michael Finch
John Wick (Keanu Reeves) is a simple man in a complex world. He is exceptionally good at one thing, killing, and it has led him to a life that he has spent three whole movies trying to escape. But unfortunately he lives in a world governed by violence and a rigid code of loyalty, honour, and tradition. It is a code that he respects even as it condemns him to an eternal life of bloodshed, but it is no way to live for a man who has nothing left to live for. So why does he keep fighting? Partly it’s because he is the eponymous hero of an action franchise where the convoluted world-building is a conceit to justify more action scenes, but in terms of the in-world narrative it is because fighting is all he knows how to do. But Keanu Reeves is not a young man and neither is John Wick. With each headshot, slashed throat, and explosion that simultaneously gets him closer to his freedom and further away from it, Wick must ask himself if the violence really is all there is, if the only way it can ever truly end is by the sword (or gun, as it were). For a series that isn’t known for its narrative profundity, Chapter 4 is a more emotional and introspective title than any to precede it.
The previous film ended with John making an enemy of the High Table, the shadowy and affluent committee that oversees the international cabal of assassins that Wick was once part of. He has gone underground, harboured by the Bowery King (Laurence Fishburne), crime lord of New York’s homeless hitmen, and the now excommunicado manager of the Continental Winston (Ian McShane). A Parisian member of the High Table known as the Marquis (Bill Skarsgård) has been charged with hunting down the fugitive Wick and has all the influence and resources in the world at his disposal. As well as imposing a $20 million bounty on the Baba Yaga, the Marquis also brings out of retirement an old colleague and friend of Wick’s, the blind assassin Caine (Donnie Yen), who is charged with assassinating Wick to protect his daughter from the High Table. Wick’s only chance is to challenge the Marquis to a duel, to offer his life in exchange for his freedom. But in a world governed by ancient ceremony of the highest order, declaring such a challenge and even turning up on time to face his opponent is no easy matter, for Wick will once again have to fight tooth and nail every step of the way to finally leave this life behind once and for all.
Measuring at an epic 169 minutes, Chapter 4 expands on the world of John Wick in vast ways, and that goes especially for his character. As I said before, John Wick is a simple man and that’s because you don’t need a complicated protagonist for this kind of series. John Wick is James Bond. He is Wong Fei-hung. He is the Man with No Name. He is the protagonist through whom we are inducted into this expansive and dynamic world that he inhabits. But that doesn’t mean there is nothing to him, Wick’s whole character is derived from his being a part of this universe and that is why we are compelled by him insofar as he is a reflection of the world and its mythology. Chapter 4 deepens this quality by making Wick’s ties to the story more personal than ever before. The assassin charged with his bounty is an old friend and the first contact Wick turns to for assistance is another former confidant in Koji (Hiroyuki Sanada), the manager of the Osaka Continental Hotel. The film brings the three comrades together in a conflict that has forced them into opposing sides and is able to draw some potent emotional dividends from the trio of performances that emerges from the intimate and respectful rapport the characters share. Both Caine and Koji represent a different path for Wick, an unrealised potential for who he could’ve been in another life, but have nonetheless still been brought to the same place as him by the strictures they are all bound by.
There is another player in the mix, a streetwise rough-and-tumble bounty hunter called Mr. Nobody (Shamier Anderson). He lives outside the laws of the High Table, or at least on the margins, and kills not for honour or creed but simply for money. He idolises Wick, but he’ll be ready to take his head as soon as the price is right. Though newer to the game, he is a representation of who Wick used to be before he fell in love and first walked away from it all. In that way, Wick is a cautionary tale for Mr. Nobody, a reflection of who he might one day become if he stays on this path (did I mention the dog? He has a dog who faithfully serves by his side, in case the parallel was lost). Caine and Mr. Nobody are relentless in their globe-trotting pursuit of Wick (the film takes them all from Osaka to Berlin to Paris), but both are given enough pause to ask themselves where it is they really stand in all of this. In a world where all are compelled to live, die, and kill at the mercy of a nebulous and all-reaching power that understands only the language of violence, what agency or moral certainty can any individual ever hope to attain? Whatever choice any one of them makes, there will always be consequences.
That all probably sounds very pretentious for a movie that’s fundamentally about Keanu Reeves shooting a slew of baddies in the head, but then there’s always been an operatic quality to John Wick. From the opulent suits and locales to the polished stylisation of the action to the series’ penchant for Greek and Roman mythology, there has always been an air of, well, not exactly sophistication per se, but grandiosity and elegance. It knows that the whole concept is a little ridiculous but chooses to lean into it anyway, treating its own material with a level of gravitas one might reserve for Shakespeare. And it works because the movies are so unapologetic about it and even earn a certain level of indulgence on the strength of the production. Directed once again by former Reeves stunt double Stahelski, Chapter 4 boasts the most spectacular set-pieces that the series has produced to date. There’s a great contrast in styles between Reeves and his intense grit versus Yen’s more airy grace and the fight choreography remains a thing of breathtaking beauty. From the neon-lit skirmish at the Japanese hotel to the roundabout traffic shootout at the Arc de Triomphe, the film never lets up with its elaborate ballet of destruction, and it consistently looks incredible. Contemporary blockbusters would do well to learn from the John Wick movies, where so many action scenes take place at night but are still very easy to follow because of how incredibly well-lit they are.
The beauty of John Wick is that the series knows what it is, as do its audience. They are intensely stylised action flicks that offer a terrific showcase for Reeves and an element of gravitas embedded in its world-building and story. The world-building isn’t to everybody’s taste, but that’s the benefit of these movies being such a blast to watch. You can let the expository bits wash over you and just enjoy the impeccable visuals and performances. There are rewards to be had in the case of Chapter 4, which is a more thoughtful musing on violence and death than anything the series has offered before, but there’s plenty to enjoy in the action alone, which is so expertly conceived, staged, and executed and so relentlessly thrilling to watch that you can scarcely feel the film’s near three-hour runtime. Perhaps the greatest highlight is an angel’s-eye shot of Wick shooting his way through an abandoned warehouse with a shotgun that fires flammable shells, a fluid sequence where we can almost feel a higher power guiding Wick’s actions. For my money, this marks the strongest entry in the John Wick franchise, with Stahelski, Reeves, and the entire creative team operating at the peak of their abilities. There are too few others today at this level doing it as well as John Wick.
★★★★
Aled Warren Films 