'Bullet Train' Review: Assassins on a Train Getting Quippy
R: Strong and bloody violence, pervasive language, and brief sexuality.
Runtime: 2 Hrs and 6 Minutes
Production Companies: Fuqua Films, 87North Productions
Distributor: Columbia Pictures
Director: David Leitch
Writer: Zak Olkewicz
Cast: Brad Pitt, Joey King, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Brian Tyree Henry, Andrew Koji, Hiroyuki Sanada, Michael Shannon, Benito A Martínez Ocasio, Sandra Bullock
Release Date: August 5, 2022
In Theaters Only
Ladybug, an unlucky assassin is determined to do his job peacefully after one too many gigs gone off the rails. Fate, however, may have other plans, as Ladybug's latest mission puts him on a collision course with lethal adversaries from around the globe—all with connected, yet conflicting, objectives—on the world's fastest train.
When director David Leitch is at the helm of an action flick, you're bound to have fun. Leitch’s keen eye for stunt work and choreography was one of his most proficient skills long before he sat in a director's chair. Bullet Train proves he hasn’t missed a step when providing well-choreographed, edited, and gleefully bloody action that elevates the entertainment value. The best thing Bullet Train has going for it is the action set pieces, which are predominantly hand-to-hand combat done in the most confined spaces. In anyone else’s hands, the action would’ve been as choppy as one would expect from a studio action comedy. But Leitch’s particular style of retaining over-the-top violence with silly aspects keeps you on your toes. The technical details, such as sound mixing and design, add intensity to the combat sequences.
The narrative borrows heavily from the structural flair of early Ritchie and Tarantino flicks. Nearly every character is unfunny or insufferable except for the assassin brothers, Tangerine (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Lemon (Brian Tyree Henry). Taylor-Johnson and Henry are the only performers in this mess who are endearing to watch. The duo’s portrayal of brotherhood is well-executed due to their natural and playful banter. The majority of the comedy stemmed from their childish conversations and personalities. Tangerine is the schemer and Lemon is the muscle with a deep obsession with—I kid you not—Thomas the Tank Engine. If you were a fan of Thomas the friggin’ Tank Engine back in the day and felt he wasn’t as culturally relevant as he deserved, congratulations! This movie fills that steam engine-shaped hole in your heart. Though the Thomas-based humor is worn thin very easily, Henry sells it with his charming British accent. The moments that had nothing to do with Brad Pitt’s Ladybug and everything to do with Taylor-Johnson and Henry were the only moments I was invested in this convoluted Hateful Eight-wannabe mess.
Once or twice a decade, Hollywood tries to develop an action flick that clones the style and structure of an early Tarantino or Ritchie movie. I don’t have any issues with a Ritchie/Tarantino knock-off; those used to be a dime a dozen during the ‘90s and ‘00s. But to copy those filmmakers while evoking the same schtick as Marvel flicks results in Bullet Train being an exhausting experience.
From the jump, the story hops around a roster of assassins trying to kill for a MacGuffin briefcase holding a crap ton of money ala The Hateful Eight meets Snatch. Each assassin gets a stylized title card, a bit of their backstory, and you see how long their screen time lasts. Fun fact: the whiter you are, the longer your lifespan. Sometimes an assassin’s backstory has more screentime and character than their tenure on the titular train.
Tonally, Bullet Train encapsulates the energy of American action movies that I’m getting sick and tired of sitting through. We’re in the era of action comedies where, instead of clever jokes and dialogue, every character spews out some sort of quip or witty reference. This film had the potential to be as goofy as its concept because having a bunch of assassins aboard a bullet train and battling it out is hilarious. But because the biggest R-rated action-comedy ever was fucking Deadpool, that repulsive, smug Ryan Reynolds brand of humor has now leeched itself onto every other action-comedy. Something shifted in David Leitch after Deadpool 2 where every movie he helms has to evoke that tone. That’s why something like Hobbs & Shaw wasn’t great; it had more quips and broad jokes than clever dialogue.
In Bullet Train’s case, they got Brad Pitt—an actor whose comedic stylings work best when he’s monotonous and reactionary—to mimic Ryan Reynolds… something Pitt shouldn’t be hired for in the first place! His character Ladybug is cynical and whiny about his streak of bad luck, for he believes he operates under a Murphy’s Law effect. Granted, his kills are great, but every time he opens his mouth you hear Ryan Reynolds's Canadian ass ringing in your ear.
From time to time, you can see Leitch’s intention to have the Japanese setting play like a character. With the cast being predominantly composed of white stars causing mayhem in Japan, the optics turn that intent into a constant issue. Learning that some central players from the source novel, such as Ladybug and Prince, were originally Asian characters and were whitewashed for the film sours the taste of the overall story. Brad Pitt’s white American ass reluctantly mowed people down on an international basis as Ladybug. Most of Prince’s arc hinges on her committing blackmail against the Asian son of a mob boss. I went through this rant a year ago with another Leitch-associated movie called Kate where a white woman causes destruction throughout Japan and it’s uncomfortable to watch. Thankfully, Bullet Train isn’t as egregious, but one look at the film’s poster tells you who lives and who doesn’t. What’s even crazier is that they did hire talented Japanese actors such as Andrew Koji and Karen Fukuhara and gave them diminishing roles. You deadass hired Kimiko from The Boys for an action flick and had her play an attendant? Really?
Bullet Train blows. Outside of the well-choreographed action and the brilliant chemistry between Henry and Taylor-Johnson, this desperate excuse for a Tarantino/Ritchie-styled action flick suffers from smug comedy and one the worst anti-Asian optics I’ve witnessed in a Hollywood studio feature all year. It’s nice to know that Chad Stahelski was the mastermind behind the first John Wick flick and not Leitch.
