On the one hand, Keanu Reeves is very much in this movie, which is set in between the events of “John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum” and “John Wick: Chapter 4.” On the other hand, the actor’s ornamental presence here emphasizes the extent to which his character had been subsumed into the ridiculously elaborate — and elaborately ridiculous — criminal underworld that he shot his way through; each of Wick’s mass-murdering efforts to bring it down made it all the more obvious that the “The High Table” is what ultimately keeps this franchise propped up. That’s not only because Shay Hatten’s Black List script has been successfully retrofitted to feel like it belongs to the world of John Wick, or because the watered down fight scenes of the movie’s first half eventually give way to some of the franchise’s most inspired carnage so far, but also because the best of that carnage — all of it rooted in 87 Eleven Entertainment’s signature blend of close-up gun-fu — bends over backwards to accommodate a 5’6” actress who weighs less than Keanu Reeves’ paycheck. The only survivor of a dull prologue that sees her adoptive father massacred by a shadowy figure named the Chancellor (an imperious Gabriel Byrne), young Eve Macarro is rescued from the ashes by New York hotelier Winston Scott (McShane), and delivered into the care of Anjelica Huston’s cigar-chomping Director, who runs a ballet studio so hardcore that it makes “Black Swan” look like “Bunheads.” In addition to pliés and pirouettes, Eve is trained in the art of shooting people in the face, and by the time the action picks up 11 years into her studies, she’s itching to graduate from the Ruska Roma conservatory and get out into the field.
Author: David Ehrlich
Published at: 2025-06-04 22:00:00
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