Chad Stahelski
John Wick 3

- Keanu, we have eighty hours of footage of you shooting people in the face, what do we do?

- Put them all in.

Obviously, I'm exaggerating, but not by much. At a certain point, I wondered why they kept showing details of the shootouts involving the good protagonist and his allies. In terms of cinematic grammar, something didn't add up. Then I understood: that is precisely the essence of the film (my first in the saga, which will surely have a fourth chapter as well).

Showing the hero smashing heads even when it's not necessary is certainly a good and just mission, necessary. And here it's done with a certain grace, referencing Un chien andalou for example, but with a whirling axe thrown from several meters that lands right there. Or with a couple of jaw-dropping sequences, in a wild race among the dazzling lights of Manhattan, or among the shelves of a library, where our heroes exchange fierce blows without anyone even daring to utter a squeal.

Aesthetics justify everything. Especially violence, even more so when it's self-ironic, amused, light-hearted. You can do anything to me, humiliate me, but don't even think about touching my dog. Otherwise, I might just take down the whole town to make you pay. But there is more, almost to the point of paradox: there's the designated killer meant to take down the hero, who, however, must respect the rules of the Hotel Continental, sits next to him on the couch, side by side, and takes the opportunity to reveal that he's a big fan. Then, when the time comes, resumes hitting him as if nothing happened. Or the two zealous henchmen who earn John's respect precisely because of their ferocity, and hence deserve clemency. It's a short circuit in a context where everyone, even the most harmless ones, are entitled to a bullet to the head.

The plot seems like one big farce; or rather, it is intentionally so, almost a parody of films that take themselves seriously and present implausible plot twists just to surprise. Here the twists are treated lightly because it matters little which direction the aim is pointing, the important thing is to keep firing. The sheer number of action sequences risks rendering the narrative skeletal, but the choices are too blatantly audacious not to get noticed. Like a pendulum, John Wick tends to one side only to change his mind (often for the most trivial reasons) and run in the opposite direction. A perpetual motion.

Just like how it's a farce the scenes where firearms are chosen with care and devotion, a mockery of American culture. And the same High Table, which is as cruel as it is naïve, is fickle and vindictive. A parody of power that uses ecclesiastical terms while being far removed from any moral rule. And finally Reeves, a bloated star who has found the perfect role to inflate his ego and his pockets. He is hardly even shown up close because he spends most of the footage shooting. But it's all a provocation, a demonstration that all it takes is a former stuntman as director and a lot of irony to make a good action film, even above average. “And you'll see, the critics will love us.”