‘Wolfs’ Review: Brad Pitt And George Clooney Face Off As Aging Fixers In Jon Watts’ Verbose Action Comedy – Venice Film Festival
Wolfs is an interesting reminder of the route writer-director Jon Watts might have taken if he hadn’t fallen into the Spiderverse, being an amplified version of his 2015 Sundance debut Cop Car. That film starred two unknown kids in a kind-hearted crime caper reminiscent of Spielberg in his Sugarland Express days; this one leans into After Hours-period Scorsese, and stars two of the most famous people in the world. Though they have a lot of fun with it, the familiarity of the two graying matinee idols as they bicker and snark through an effortless but also slightly weightless genre romp leaves one with the sneaking suspicion that, at times, they might be having a bit more fun than we are.
Most likely inspired by Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction and the character of Winston “The Wolf” Wolf (as played by Harvey Keitel), this is a whole movie devoted to a character that dwells in the fringes of crime thrillers: The Fixer. It begins with a situation that desperately needs fixing: It’s Christmas, and New York DA Margaret Kretzer (Amy Ryan) is alone in a posh new Manhattan hotel and cursing blue murder with the body of a near-nude, drug-addled young man lying in a pool of blood and glass on the bedroom floor. In desperation, she whips out her cellphone and taps out a number that leads to a disconnected line.
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Seconds later a voice calls her back: “How did you get this number?” The voice is calling from a payphone in a dive bar, and Margaret explains she was given his number for times exactly like this. As if paraphrasing an ’80s action poster, she tells him what she was told about him: “There’s only one man in this city that can do what you do. This man is a professional. This man is an expert.” He agrees to take the job and arrives within the hour after giving Margaret strict instructions to sit tight and not touch a single thing.
Played by Clooney, this is Margaret’s Man, and he sets to work with low-key gusto. Suddenly, however, there is a sound, and another man appears. The newcomer, played by Brad Pitt, is the Mr. Fixit hired by the hotel’s unseen owner, Pamela Dowd-Henry (voiced by Frances McDormand). Pam has been watching the night’s events on an illegal surveillance camera and demands the two men collaborate to clean up this “absolute clusterf*ck of a mess.” Margaret’s Man, the archetypal lone wolf, bristles at this unnecessary intervention, while Pam’s Man enjoys needling the (ever so slightly) older man as they set about disposing of the body and any sign that Kretzer was ever there.
As a mop-up procedural, Wolfs is often very funny and most ingenious. Both men have thoughtfully brought clean outfits for the blood-soaked Kretzer to wear, and there’s a delicious moment where she takes a skirt from one man and a top from the other, leaving both slightly crestfallen. It quickly transpires that they are very, very competitive, and there’s a stylized, almost Hitchcockian vibe to the opening scenario, lightly reminiscent of Rope, as the two men quibble over the dark art of fixing.
The stakes ramp up slightly when Pam’s Man finds a bag tucked away behind a sideboard; inside are four bricks of a drug that looks suspiciously like heroin. This, obviously changes everything, and Pam, justifiably, freaks out, not wanting her bijou hotel getting caught in the crossfire of a cartel drug war. However, this isn’t the only humdinger of a surprise in store: the boy is not dead, and somehow he escapes their normally capable clutches, leading to an extraordinarily complicated chase that finds Margaret’s Man and Pam’s Man orchestrating a pincer movement by foot and by car.
This, however, is merely the starting point for a genial action comedy that, to be frank, will appeal mostly to audiences over 40, raised on a diet of movies with jaded, wisecracking characters that were born too old for this s—. The camaraderie is palpable and genuine, but the repartee is forced in comparison to the gentle physical comedy that both are so good at (and which they telegraphed so well in their best joint effort, the Coens’ 2008 Burn After Reading). The rat-a-tat dialogue, which at times seems self-congratulatory rather than funny, is particularly wearing, distracting from the needlessly verbose final reveal, which comes out (or does it?) in a head-spinning back-and-forth.
Luckily, both are old pros, but their over-familiarity does rob the film of surprise, which is sorely needed for a well-worn caper about stolen drugs and a vicious Croatian crimelord (played by Zlatko Buri? in a criminally undercooked role). In this sense, Austin Abrams is the film’s MVP, the body from the hotel room, whose protestations (“I’m not a prostitute!”) fall on deaf ears and whose surprising backstory adds an interesting third wheel to the Midnight Run-style mismatched buddy premise.
Unsurprisingly, despite serving up the old Butch and Sundance ending, the film leaves the door wide open for a sequel — who is the fixer behind the fixers? — and, in stark opposition to the diminishing returns of the Ocean’s franchise, another go-around might actually nail things down. In fact, Watts is likely thinking of the Wolfverse right now…
Title: Wolfs
Festival: Venice (Out of Competition)
Distributor: Apple TV+
Director-screenwriter: Jon Watts
Cast: Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Amy Ryan, Austin Abrams, Poorna Jagannathan, Zlatko Buri?, Richard Kind
Running time: 1 hr 48 mins
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