John Wick: Chapter 4

If there’s any doubt that John Wick: Chapter 4 could be more audacious than its storied predecessors, that’s wiped away almost immediately in the film’s first scene; Lawrence Fishburne’s Bowery King theatrically recites lines from Dante’s Inferno before blowing out a lit match to initiate a direct lift of that famous cut from Lawrence of Arabia. It’s a perfect encapsulation of how these films are: reverent to a cinematic history beyond its Hong Kong action inspirations, but not so self-serious about it.

Chapter 4 picks up where the third entry, Parabellum, left off: having been betrayed and left for dead by confidante Winston (Ian McShane), who finally bowed to ​‘The High Table’ who rule over John Wick’s world of assassins. John’s pissed, and ready to become an angel of death again for those who dared to wrong him – this time it’s high ranking ​“French” table member Marquis Vincent de Gramont, played by Bill Skarsgård.

Keanu Reeves’ performance of Wick is primarily physical – between ferocious action sequences he’s the embodiment of a condemned man. As Fishburne’s recitations of Dante loudly suggest, he’s in hell. It’s not just because of the looping emotional and physical torment of being dragged back into his old life, but also because you can barely call the John Wick franchise’s feverish depiction of criminal enterprise an ​‘underworld’ – it simply exists everywhere in plain sight. Wick hasn’t got much to talk about any more, so Reeves plays the straight man to the other colourful characters doing all the talking for him.

Chapter 4 divests its ample running time among the numerous action legends of its cast, though some of the character writing runs quite archetypical. King of the direct-to-video movie Scott Adkins is particularly memorable, accessorised with gold veneers and a cartoonish German accent. His frequent co-star Marko Zaror gets to show off both ample technical skill and stature as a seemingly unkillable heavy.

Most exciting of all is the appearance of Donnie Yen bringing both relaxed poise as well as ferocious speed to Caine, a blind assassin and old friend of Wick’s (as nearly everyone is) who is hired under duress to kill him. The returning Ian McShane and the late, great Lance Reddick round out a delightfully varied supporting cast, along with other newcomers Shamier Anderson (whose Tracker is an inspiration to freelancers everywhere) and popstar Rina Sawayama being given unique instances to throw down alongside or against Reeves.

In the time between its last few entries ​“John Wick” has become shorthand for a style of action that’s been popularised in the wake of the first – vividly colourful, steady camerawork at medium distance, and slightly longer takes that emphasise all the intricacies of its choreography.

It’s good then, that Chapter 4 strives for elaboration on this codified style. Its hypnotic but muscular choreography evolves its punishing grappling and gun-fu both with new weapons (nunchucks being one highlight, given delightful impact through punchy sound mixing) and some inventive character details making their way into how the fights are structured.

One such highlight is Caine’s crafty use of motion sensors, with a doorbell noise locating his opponents from a distance. Better still that Stahelski and his team continue to be creative about how each new setting plays into the structure of the film’s action design, with far more than just neon-lit backdrops to the same gunfight, particularly in the climactic Paris sequences which quite literally play in traffic around the Arc de Triomphe.

Some of its incredible late stage single-take sequences also make an exciting break from the series’s established style, with Dan Lausten’s camera slowly detaching from John (armed with flame-spitting incendiary rounds) and gliding up into a video-gamey, birds-eye view of an abandoned apartment building, showing choreography even between separate rooms in a much needed change-up from common emulations of Oldboy. This is but one stopgap in the film’s breakneck third act in Paris, bookended by Reeves getting hit by three cars in a row, Meet Joe Black style, and an exhaustive, hilarious battle up the winding steps to the Sacré-Cœur, set to the pulsing sounds of ​“Genesis” by Justice, which blends right in with Tyler Bate and Joel J. Richard’s grungy electronic score.

But the real fun of watching these films isn’t just the how it shows the accumulating strain of violence and ever-increasing absurdity with which it paints its background details (like hitman call centres in the Eiffel Tower). It’s how Stahelski and his stunt team slip comedy between action beats. Parabellum suddenly created slapstick out of three guys racing to reload; Chapter 4 has delightful feints and painful, Keaton-esque physical gags tucked away in every moment of every set piece, which serve as a reminder that action like this can so gracefully encompass a variety of tones all at once.

At the days of the day, there are guys in Wick’s way, and most of them have gotta die, but Stahleski’s design of the action keeps this inevitable outcome from feeling stale. Chapter 4 is an overwhelming undertaking, but also a welcome doubling-down on everything fun about this series, a thrilling counter-point to its dehumanised, big budget Hollywood contemporaries, that also serves as a welcome ode to martial artists and stunt performers.

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