3.5 stars. Rating: R, for violence, profanity and brief nudity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.2.13
This summer could be subtitled
The Revenge of the Comic Book.
Or, perhaps, yet another reminder
that imitation isn’t always the sincerest form of flattery.
I don’t refer merely to obvious
candidates such as Iron Man 3, Wolverine or Man of Steel. RED 2 and R.I.P.D. also are based on graphic novels, and the latter demonstrates the
folly of believing that folks will queue up simply because something IS a
big-screen adaptation of such a property.
Clever ideas are a great start,
but they’re no substitute for a sharp screenplay that understands the need to
sustain our involvement for the next few hours. Many of today’s one-shot
graphic novels suffer from the same malady that infects numerous movies: a
slick one-sentence concept that doesn’t know where to go from Page 3.
Happily, 2 Guns — derived from
Steven Grant’s five-issue miniseries of the same title — rises above that level
of mediocrity. Blake Masters’ screenplay is quite witty, and stars Denzel
Washington and Mark Wahlberg get plenty of mileage from their snarky frenemy
dynamic. If the core plot doesn’t always stand up to scrutiny, that probably
wasn’t high on director Baltasar Kormákur’s goals anyway; he obviously set out
to make a pleasurable popcorn flick, with enjoyable results. He achieves a tone
that evokes pleasant memories of 1987’s Lethal Weapon.
As was true with RED 2, we’re
not that bothered by whatever propels our central characters, as long as they
keep entertaining us.
And, credit where due, this
film’s twisty first act definitely keeps us guessing. If my next few paragraphs
seem unduly vague or misleading, blame a desire to preserve at least some of
the early surprises.
We meet Bobby Trench (Washington)
and Michael “Stig” Stigman (Wahlberg) as they case the Tres Cruces Savings
& Loan from a diner across the street in a small Texas border town. Their
goal seems decidedly larcenous, but they can’t really be bad guys, because they
flirt so coyly with the waitress, and because they’re our stars,
fercryinoutloud.
One flashback later, it appears
that Stig and Bobby are trying to set up Papi Greco (Edward James Olmos), a
drug kingpin who does his dirty work in Mexico, while leading what seems an
ordinary life as husband and father in an upscale Texas community. At least, it
seems like this is what’s going down, but the edges quickly get fuzzy; far too
many additional players pop up at the fringes of this undercover sting ... if
indeed that’s the game in the first place.
Frustrated by an unconsummated
drug deal that would have concluded the case, Stig and Bobby invade the
aforementioned Savings & Loan, where they believe Papi Greco has stashed $3
million in a safe deposit box. One quick escape later, our astonished buddies realize
they've snatched somewhere north of $40 million: a crazy amount of money that
rings all sorts of alarm bells.
And, in the blink of an eye, our
heroes are targeted by not just one, nor two, but four sets of adversaries:
Papi Greco’s goons; DEA agents led by Jessup (Robert John Burke) and Deb (Paula
Patton), the latter having “serious history” with Bobby; U.S. Navy
investigators led by Quince (James Marsden); and a seriously nasty group of
guys fronted by the psychopathic Earl (Bill Paxton).
With so many gun-toting thugs on
their tail — some of them wearing crisp Navy uniforms — Bobby and Stig begin to
wonder if they can even trust each other. This rising paranoia adds plenty of amusing
edge to their banter, which grows increasingly wary as each becomes more
reluctant to turn his back during a firefight.
Kormákur and Masters keep us
guessing for quite some time; even when some alliances appear to be resolved,
others remain uncertain. The result is a combustible brew that is fueled,
throughout, by the well-timed quips traded by Washington and Wahlberg.
Washington remains a fascinating
presence in every respect, down to the most innocuous moments; he moves like a
panther and adds engaging body language to a simple walk across a room. His
tough-guy blankness melts into mocking challenge or amused disbelief, as a
scene demands; his guileless sincerity brings more credibility to this nonsense
than you’d believe possible.
Point being: Unlike many actors,
who would sleepwalk through such fluff, Washington always brings his A-game.
And we admire him for it.
Washington’s acutely focused
Bobby contrasts nicely with Wahlberg’s amiable, language-mangling Stig.
Wahlberg plays a guy who looks and acts dumber than he is: a misleading
attitude that grants him an advantage more than once. Stig also is chatterbox,
his relentless patter yet another means of distracting those around him.
Trouble is, Bobby’s never sure if HE’S one of the people Stig intends to
distract.
Paxton is memorably chilling as
the über-nasty Earl, the sort of smiling, bland-faced killer that movies of
this stripe love to serve up. Earl’s affectation involves forcing captured rivals
to endure a few rounds of Russian roulette: a gimmick that comes with a speech
that hearkens back to Clint Eastwood’s “I know what you’re thinking” monologue,
in Dirty Harry.
Marsden proves equally lethal, in
a spit-and-polish manner, as Quince; Fred Ward makes the most of his brief
appearance as a Navy admiral with a rather distressing means of “settling” some
of the issues at hand. Olmos is quite persuasive as the sort of very bad fellow
who knows that he never needs to raise his voice, because he’s the most
powerful — and deadly — guy in the room.
Patton, so aggressively capable
in 2011’s Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, does well with one of this
story’s most complex roles. At first she seems little more than exploitative
eye-candy, but Deb proves to have hidden depths.
The action dances from one side
of the border to the other, and back again. Some of the plot sidebars are
needlessly contrived, most notably a pointless detour while Bobby and Stig join
a group of Papi Greco’s coyotes, as they herd some illegal immigrants into the
United States. This seems a rather blatant — and gratuitous — political
statement on Masters’ part.
Kormákur burst on the scene with
2000’s 101 Reykjavík, made in his native Iceland; more recently, he worked
with Wahlberg on last year’s Contraband, a slick but otherwise average crime
thriller. Although Kormákur has a gift for well-staged mayhem, he occasionally
succumbs to irritating “artistic” tendencies, such as the aforementioned
flashbacks that interfere with the flow of this film's first act.
Editor Michael Tronick cuts
deftly but not intrusively, and keeps the pace lively; cinematographer Oliver
Wood adds some grit with occasionally grainy film stock, but wisely doesn’t
overuse the effect. I’m also grateful for the fact that, copious gunfire
notwithstanding, the results are neither gory nor particularly bloody ... unless,
that is, we include the chickens.
An unrelated factoid I can't
resist sharing: This routine action thriller boasts a jaw-dropping 12 producers
— or perhaps 24, depending on who’s counting — which begs the obvious question:
What the heck did they all do?
That notwithstanding, 2 Guns is
ideal summer entertainment: easy on the eyes and brain, with plenty of empty
calories to keep us engaged for 109 minutes.
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