Brittany Runs a Marathon
John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum
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There's nothing quiet about it. There's enough sturm and drang here to populate an ode to a Grecian melodrama. Reads more like an SNL sketch than a masterpiece classic.
Maybe suffers a bit from middle picture syndrome, but it's still an effective, entertaining summer blockbuster that enlightens while checking off all the necessary boxes.
McAvoy is a revelation. Sadly, the film's only other revelation is that director Shyamalan needs to fire writer Shayamalan.
More successful as a love letter to not-so-young artists than as a love story, it doesn't earn its bona fides until its final chapter. I'm not convinced it needed to be a musical (because it's not a very good one), and think its script never rises to the promise of its theme and plot. Nevertheless, the more I consider what it says, and how it does the saying of it, the more affecting it becomes. In those final frames, the improvisational jamming became the melancholy song it was always destined to be. It's a trumpet blare from the soul masquerading as a candy-colored trifle.
Though I'd likely agree with most criticism a detractor would lob, I found it an effective and affecting tale in spite of them. Who among us, hurtling through space with only these moments and the great unknown ahead, would choose loneliness?