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There’s a common opinion rumbling about on the internet, that the John Wick series is at its worst when it’s worldbuilding, and at its best when it’s thumping skulls. The theory goes that all the mythology that surrounds John Wick – the Continentals, High Tables and tokens – is getting unwieldy, and the series is losing sight of what made it successful. That opinion was hardened when people saw the runtime for John Wick: Chapter 4. 2h 49m! It could only be that mythology stuff.
Having reached the end of John Wick: Chapter 4, battered and bruised, holding onto something like an ending, we can say with confidence that the internet was Wrong with a capital W. John Wick: Chapter 4 is not a dip in form – if anything, it’s a continuation of strong form – and the mythology stuff doesn’t let it down in any way. It’s light touch and effective. If there’s anything that lets John Wick: Chapter 4 down, it’s the fisticuffs. At times, it’s exhausting and – whisper it – a little too reliant on CGI.
We’re skipping ahead. John Wick: Chapter 4 starts almost immediately after the third installment, just as the other movies have segued immediately from their predecessors. Winston (Ian McShane, effortless) is dragged in front of the High Table’s representative, the Marquis (Bill Skarsgard, louche and impatient) and made to answer for why Wick was able to kill his men within the Continental’s walls. There is a steep punishment, and the price tag on Wick’s life goes up.
It’s at this point that John Wick: Chapter 4 does something reasonably bold, and makes Wick, the Baba Yaga, something of a bad guy. He has no option but to run to friends who are damned if they help and damned if they don’t. Through their connection to him, they become targets, and he brings unwitting death upon them. We felt like shouting at the screen, telling Wick to leave the poor people alone. Shack up with an enemy for a night. Get them killed.
The theme of friendship that has been warped into terrible new shapes is a constant in John Wick: Chapter 4, and it’s manifested in the shape of Caine (Donnie Yen, completely charming). He’s an old friend who is forced to fight on the side of the Marquis, through threats on Caine’s daughter’s life. He also happens to be blind, which adds yet more spice to the fight sequences. He swings from being overwhelmed and (literally) blindsided to suddenly aware in a single heartbeat, as enemies make a sound and prick up his ears.
These are weighty themes that Keanu Reeves can’t quite shoulder. We don’t remember him being quite this wooden and blank in the previous John Wick movies, but in Chapter 4 he’s distractingly mediocre. If there’s meant to be an inner conflict bubbling away in Wick – that his actions are bringing consequences to his friends – then it evaporates before the camera reaches Keanu. He’s got an excuse of course: he is getting, as they say, too old for this shit, and four films is enough to weary anyone.
For once, John Wick has a plan. Delivered by Winston, it kicks John Wick: Chapter 4 into gear, and the movie gains some momentum. There is an actual way out for John, no matter how unlikely, and it’s a closing window that he looks increasingly unlikely to sneak through.
That plan relies on dusting off some old High Table customs, and we were all for it. The mythology gubbins didn’t weigh down John Wick: Chapter 4: they are used sparingly, and made enough sense (cribbing from history) that the deus ex machina felt believable where it could have delivered an eyeroll. It’s still a wonder that the John Wick movies have shown so little of the High Table and how they operate. Presumably that’s coming with expanded universe stuff like Ana De Armas’s Ballerina.
It’s the fights that are a little on the stodgy side this time out. There’s a sequence in a German nightclub that is misguided for a couple of reasons – one character is clearly in a fat suit, while the club-goers dance even though they’re at risk of a bullet to the cranium. Another fight at the Arc de Triomphe is way, way too long, leaning into obvious CGI as it tries to escalate the battle. There are only so many ways you can throw a bad guy – or Keanu, in fact – at a car, and things border on the repetitive.
But in the broadest sense, John Wick: Chapter 4 carries on the tradition of turning combat into wondrous cinematography. It’s not for everyone, but it’s definitely for us. A wonderful sequence lifts the camera up on a crane, refusing to cut as Wick moves from room to room within a dilapidated building, firing sawn-off rounds. Another fight on the stairs of the Sacre Coeur moves up and down steps, as enemies and Wick tumble and get back up again. You can almost imagine Chumbawumba kicking in.
We’re going to miss the fights of a John Wick movie. They have always felt like a reaction against Bourne Identity, and the shaky-cam footage of the past thirty years of movies that borrowed from it. The choreography and cinematography instead cribs from martial arts movies, refusing to cut, relying on the expertise of stuntmen and women to glue the scenes together. The result is a nearly-three-hour movie that whips by, only getting leaden when the combat gets over-indulgent. It’s a rollercoaster – one that should have got old by now, but somehow, miraculously, is just as thrilling as the first time we stepped on it.
Perhaps the greatest miracle of all is that there is an ending, and that ending feels correct. After the anarchy of John Wick: Chapter 3, it was hard to see where on earth it was all heading. But John Wick: Chapter 4 finds a direction and, with Wick-like steel in its eyes, heads directly for it. That it finds that target, with barely a wayward bullet over the runtime, is quite the achievement.
We suspect a John Wick marathon has now become a feat of endurance. This final chapter in the Wick saga may be long, and some combat sequences border on the farcical, but the overall emotion is satisfaction. The Wick showrunners have found a resolution, and it moves like a bullet train towards it. Bravo, Baba Yaga: this is a series without a single bum note.