Starring Samuel L. Jackson (The Hateful Eight) and Ryan Reynolds (The Nines) as rather self-aware parodies of themselves, The Hitman’s Bodyguard—what with its blatantly self-explanatory title—should have had its work cut out for it.
Sadly, this is where the film’s silver linings end. With the talent this efficient in pulling off sardonic humor, one could do many things. What Patrick Hughes does with the cast, unfortunately, isn’t enough to make up for its flaws. Sure, Reynolds and Jackson boast cracking chemistry, and to an extent, the makers use their camaraderie well. The set-pieces themselves are not too shabbily executed or cut up. The lack of novelty, however—we have been graced with action movies far superior to this—doesn’t work at all in its favor.
Of course, the mediocre CGI does not help by a mile and a half. A stylish set-piece will be preceded by what looks like a helicopter—only not realistic enough—on a wide-angle establishing shot that does more harm than good. Considering the director’s previous attempt in The Expendables 3 however, its flaws should not surprise.
By the time the focus shifts primarily on [Gary] Oldman’s Bad-Guy-101 sneers, there’s nothing left to see, effectively making the final act a bunch of overstretched fluff.
The problem here is the tone, which is as inconsistent as its technique. The Hitman’s Bodyguard introduces within its runtime two female characters with exceptional potential, only to be squandered away by relegating them as props. The most disappointing aspect of this pitfall is that their characters are essayed by Salma Hayek (Il Racconto del Raccontei; Eng.: Tale of Tales) and Elodie Yung, both massively talented actors who seem mighty passionate about their craft.
These issues would not make much of a difference, except, the antagonist—played functionally enough by Gary Oldman—has nothing of substance. Most of the plot-thread involving him does the age-old trick of depending far too much on Very-Important-Henchman-Of-All-Henchmen. By the time the focus shifts primarily on Oldman’s Bad-Guy-101 sneers, there’s nothing left to see, effectively making the final act a bunch of overstretched fluff.
The problem of The Hitman’s Bodyguard is not that it is the same-old-same-old; no. As demonstrated clearly through such films as The Void, John Wick: Chapter 2 and Kong: Skull Island, it is not the plot—and it does not necessarily have to be. Patrick Hughes misses the mark when it comes to giving the film a much-needed dose of focus and consistency. What viewers are left with instead is sheer frustration.
And nothing can guard them against it.
