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The Equalizer 2

Review, Theatrical, This Week Leave a Comment

Following the success of their 2014 TV-to-movie reboot, director Antoine Fuqua (Training Day) and star Denzel Washington (c’mon, you know him) re-team for another tilt at the further adventures of CIA badass turned friendly neighbourhood vigilante, Robert McCall. The results, as they say are mixed.

The Equalizer 2 sees our man McCall working as a Lyft driver in-between using his capacity for staggering violence to deliver a little girl from her kidnapper father, or help a Holocaust survivor track down a missing painting. His routine of community-minded chaos is interrupted when his oldest friend and colleague, CIA agent Susan Plummer (Melissa Leo, whom Fuqua last brutalised in 2013’s Olympus Has Fallen) is murdered, seemingly in a robbery gone wrong. Of course that isn’t the case, of course there’s a conspiracy, and of course McCall vows to find those responsible and wreak bloody vengeance upon them.

The thing is, the plot doesn’t matter – which is a good thing, seeing as The Equalizer 2 is one of the most sloppily plotted films to come down the pike in a good long while. No, the plot only exists as a kind of narrative trellis to support scenes of two kinds: ones where Denzel is dispensing harsh, stoic wisdom, and ones where he is dispensing harsh, brutal justice. The film gets around the murky, troubling questions that dogged the recent Death Wish reboot simply by having Washington be the off-the-books hand of vengeance; not only does that remove the irksome racial issues around vigilantism, the man has such an air of moral authority that as an audience we’re more or less charmed by his sheer force of personality into siding with him. These things are the right things to do because Denzel is doing them.

It helps, if that is the right word, that the universe of The Equalizer movies is a pretty horrible one, where truly despicable people terrorise the innocent on the reg. If that’s the world outside your window, who wouldn’t want a kindly, book-loving former black ops commando quietly breaking the fingers of rapists? The problem is that Fuqua and his screenwriter, Richard Wenk, demonstrate how fallen the world is by depicting an awful lot of violence against women, doubling down on what was already an uncomfortable element in the first film. Of course, we want our bad guys to be bad, but after a while you start to wonder if this continued pattern (one woman is shot in the head, one is stabbed to death, one is gang raped) hints at uglier motivations.

It does, I guess, give Denzel full license to completely dismantle the bad guys when the time comes, and at 63 the acclaimed actor remains a convincing action hero, even if the action borders on slasher movie slaying. When he’s completely off the leash, McCall is basically “what if Michael Myers, but on our side?”, slicing villains to shreds with swift savage knife work, including one kill that might be the most horrifying to feature in a mainstream motion picture since… well, The Equalizer.

But these well staged, cleverly conceived and shockingly graphic action sequences don’t distract from the fact that when you get right down to it, The Equalizer 2 is pretty dumb, beyond even the normal generous allowances made for the action genre. The plot runs on coincidence and happenstance, but often drags just to allow McCall to hang out tossing nuggets of wisdom at whoever hoves by, mainly a troubled teen in danger of being sucked into the drug milieu (Ashton Sanders). The conspiracy is perfunctory and the aims of the antagonists (whose identities remain mysterious right up until you give it a second’s thought) have no real world stakes. Even on a basic staging level, the film falters – all other considerations aside, the climactic battle takes place in seaside town in the middle of a hurricane that somehow leaves the combatants, who are running and gunning through gale force winds, completely dry.

Which is not to say there aren’t pleasures to be gleaned from The Equalizer 2, but they’re pretty basic ones. Essentially, if your idea of a good night out is watching Denzel Washington hang tough and destroy deserving scumbags, there’s something for you here. Any expectations beyond that will go sadly unmet.

 
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See You Up There

Review, Theatrical, This Week Leave a Comment

Personal and political, macabre and mesmerising, cynical and hopeful… prolific actor and director Albert Dupontel’s See You Up There is a difficult film to pin down. An acerbic satire of war-profiteering set chiefly in post-World War One France, it’s shot through with a sense of the fantastical that echoes the works of Tim Burton, Guillermo del Toro and – perhaps more appropriately – fellow French filmos Jean-Pierre Jenet and Marc Caro (you could pair this one with Jeunet’s A Very Long Engagement for a note-perfect double feature).

The plot, somewhat simplified from the source novel by Pierre Lemaitre (released in English as The Great Swindle), sprawls. Surviving a suicide mission forced upon them by their glory-hound commanding officer, Pradelle (Laurent Lafitte, all but twirling his mustache), two French infantrymen stick together after they are discharged from duty following the war’s end. One, Albert Maillard (Dupontel), is a middle aged man of modest means, used to getting the short end of the stick. His friend Edouard Pericourt (Nahuel Perez Biscayart, also see in BPM), is a gifted artist from a wealthy family – one he refuses to return to, as his face has been horribly mutilated in that final, savage action.

Returning to Paris, the pair, believed killed in action, struggle to keep themselves fed – and to feed Pericourt’s morphine addiction. Maillard trudges through menial jobs and runs petty scams until Pericourt, mad or inspired, hits upon a scam: they, living veterans of the Great War, will feed on their nation’s obsession with honouring the dead by designing elaborate war memorials for every town and village they can get to cough up an advance – and then scarper with the money.

That’s the central irony at work here – while actual returned soldiers starve, France will spend thousands to honour those already fallen. That’s a grim bit of business, but in the role of director, Dupontel refuses to wallow, instead imbuing his film with brio, energy, and a touch of magical realism. This is a lavish production, and even when its depicting the carnage of the battlefield, it’s just so pretty.

That’s a running theme here – a comment on the way the ’20s roared after the horrors of the war; holed up in their shared garret, Pericoult devises elaborate masks to conceal the ruin of his face, just like France (and the rest of the world, let’s not dissemble) quickly draws the bright blanket of the Jazz Age over any lingering reminders of the conflict.

Things get complicated when Pradelle circles back into their lives, now a decorated hero who is running his own post-war profiteering scam. Worse, he’s worked his way into the embrace of Pericoult’s family, impressing his banker father (Niels Arestrup) and romancing his sister, Madeleine (Émilie Dequenne). That’s quite the coincidence, really, and not the only one to crop up in the storyline –  perhaps a necessary shortcut resulting from trying to boil down 600 pages of dense prose into a couple of hours worth of cinema. Still, it sets the stage for the back end of the film, driving our odd couple heroes towards dealing with their past before they can escape to whatever future awaits them.

If there’s a key issue with See You Up There it’s that it never lets up – incident upon incident, character upon character, and scheme upon scheme are all piled onto us at such a clip that at times it threatens to become exhausting, even as Vincent Mathias’ sumptuous, carefully composed, colourful yet slightly sepia widescreen photography teeters on the edge of overwhelming the senses. There’s so much in here, and so many moving parts that the film almost never takes the time to breathe – even its quieter moments seem determined to dazzle.

It’s almost too much of a good thing – but it’s still a good thing. For all its technical and artistic flourishes, what really carries the day is the relationship between Maillard and Pericoult. The performances by Dupontel and Biscayart, the former bringing all the hangdog expressive pathos of a great silent comedian, the latter delivering an impressively expansive performance that marries physical exuberance with subtlety to project his character’s inner life through and beyond his exquisite headpieces.

A beautiful, ambitious, thematically complex crime epic, See You Up There attempts to encompass so much that it was almost bound to miss a couple of the targets it was aiming for, but for sheer, gutsy, shoot-for-the-stars artistry and verve, there’s nothing quite like it out there at the moment.