John Wicky

Every purple moon I go to the movies seeking some distraction. Last night there was Ouija playing, I checked it on IMBD, but found it rated 4.3. I checked John Wick and it was 8.3 — where it was described as: An ex-hitman comes out of retirement to track down the gangsters that killed his dog and took everything from him. Oooh. It’s also Keanu Reeves and Willem Dafoe, so... it should be OKayish. Or so I thought.


This is sort of a spoiler, a deliberate one, so if you still want to watch that movie stop reading. There is a variety of different topics to delve into on One Lucky Soul. Just check one of the many labels and take it from there.


Alright, the action/crime/thriller story starts with memories of Keanu’s young wife tragic, untimely death. He’s then seen in a gas station where one of three guys offered to buy his sport 1969 Mustang, but he refused.

“Everything is for sale, Bitch,” said the stranger — in Russian.

Next scene, the three guys break into his cool home, beat the shit out of him, kill the cute puppy his late wife had given him [the bastards]. And, they steal the prized car. That’s it.

The father of one of said guys happens to be a Russian mafioso who also happens to know Keanu from older times. He called him up, trying to tell him “not to follow his instincts”. But it was too late for Krazy Keanu who flipped out and lost it for one full hour — unleashing his wrath like there is no tomorrow. Yet, like, there is a part 3 in the making.

Being a former assassin, he was fully loaded. It was like a “Commando-going-to-save-his-daughter-in-1985” sort of affair; utter revenge and non-stop destruction, often shown in the form of CGId bloody gun battles.

Here, though, there was no one to save... his car maybe, but I’m not even sure he got it back. Perhaps save himself? By killing. Spirit Of Times? Zeitgeist?


At some point through the movie, I tried to put myself in John Wick’s shoes. You know, to see if any of this could be slightly realistic. If I were freshly-widowed and someone had done that to Caramella my late Cocker Spaniel — and I loved her more than my unborn kids — would I go hunt them down while killing a few hundred people in the process, I found myself wondering for one brief moment. Bearing in mind that I’m no real hitman, but three quarter of a second later, I thought NO. Absolutely not. Even though my love for her was notoriously unconditional but I will not carry a bazooka and blow up people and cars in response. Even if my wife had just died. Not really my shtick. Because, how would that solve anything? how would that help me heal?

But hey, that’s just me: After all, I am crazy Bohemian Hippie at heart who is all for peace and love. Weird. 

By that time all these thoughts about the flick were invading my mind while [apparently] entertaining me more than the actual flick, it had been about 70 minutes. I had already dosed off twice, and, seriously, couldn’t take it anymore, so I got up and left, wondering what the hell is wrong with the mainstream... and humanity. Is it the people, the culture, America, or, is it me? Can some people find such a shallow, substanceless “action thriller” story captivating? Apparently yes: It is entertaining to spend one and a half hour of our lives watching some angry guy killing people to avenge his dead dog. Maybe these waves of mixed emotions will make the viewers feel better about themselves and their own lives. Remembering they are not John Wick and that they do not have to avenge their dead dog by going on a killing spree.

How about Wick flying to Nepal or something to heal from his uncontrollable anger and to learn the power of forgiveness. He can meditate on the summit of a mountain while getting another pup, too. Mayhap a stray runt doggo who will just magically pop up on one of his mountainous hikes there. Or that wouldn’t sell, huh. Then again, I am starting to think Keanu Reeves can only play those Matrix-like robotic roles with minimal dialogue — nothing deeper. 

Still, in real life the man seems to be a genuinely wonderful human being. We do need more of him in this absurd rotating rock we all live and breath on.


So yes I did get distracted this Saturday night but I certainly wasn’t impressed nor entertained.

Sorry, Drifters, some of us do care