La critique de James Berardinelli (1)

Many will undoubtedly remark upon the similarities between The Way of the Gun and the films of Quentin Tarantino. However, while it would be disingenuous to assume that writer/director Christopher McQuarrie was not influenced by the likes of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, the real source of his inspiration seems to be coming from another direction. Watching The Way of the Gun, there are times when the presence of Sam Peckinpah's ghost is almost palpable. Although McQuarrie (the screenwriter for The Usual Suspects making his directorial debut here) lacks Peckinpah's polished style, the setting, characters, and unvarnished, visceral violence all pay homage to the late, great filmmaker.

The script for The Way of the Gun doesn't match that of The Usual Suspects for ingenuity, but it's a perfectly serviceable screenplay, filled with satisfying little ironic twists and turns. The dialogue doesn't sparkle á là Tarantino, but the characters aren't reduced to muttering mindless cliches. From time-to-time, McQuarrie gets a little too cute with his one-liners (for example: "Karma's only justice without the satisfaction"), but this tendency never represents more than a momentary distraction. Most importantly, he keeps the level of tension high and involves the audience in the story for the entire two hours. The ending is not telegraphed or pre-ordained; you have to experience the movie to get to it.

The Way of the Gun is populated by a gallery of amoral characters, so there's no real rooting interest. As with the classic Wages of Fear, this is a thriller where we don't need to like the characters to appreciate the suspense inherent in their situation. Parker (Ryan Phillippe) and Longbaugh (Benicio Del Toro) are the main characters - a couple of criminals who finally see their chance to strike it rich. All they have to do is kidnap a young woman, Robin (Juliette Lewis), from the protective custody of her four homicidal bodyguards.

She is the surrogate mother for the child of the wealthy Hale Chidduck (Scott Wilson), and he presumably will be willing to pay almost any sum to get her back. Unfortunately, there are a few things Parker and Longbaugh haven't reckoned with: Chidduck's deep criminal involvement ("he makes his living collecting other people's enemies"), and his right-hand man, Joe Sarno (James Caan), a grizzled old "cleaner" who knows all the tricks and isn't easily fooled or killed.

La critique de James Berardinelli (fin)

It's refreshing to find a group of criminals who aren't too smart to be believable nor too dumb to be ridiculous. Parker and Longbaugh make plenty of mistakes, but they aren't stupid; in fact, some of their moves border are brilliant. As individuals, they are not well developed. We learn little about what motivates them besides an overwhelming thirst for money. Upon occasion, one or the other shows a human trait or two, but McQuarrie isn't overly interested in presenting the men as fully-rounded characters. They are the catalysts; without them, there would be no story. The two best developed participants are Sarno, whose backstory remains shrouded in mystery, and one of Robin's bodyguards, the slick and overconfident Jeffers (Taye Diggs), who is so sure of himself that he believes he can play both ends against the middle without getting burned.

It should come as no surprise to learn that the most effective performance belongs to James Caan, who has made a career out of playing tough guys. Sarno doesn't stretch the actor's range; this is comfortable role for him to slide into, and we never have trouble accepting it. Taye Diggs portrays Jeffers with the kind of cool arrogance that makes him easy to dislike. Meanwhile, Benicio Del Toro and Ryan Phillippe do competent jobs as Parker and Longbaugh. Neither is going to win any awards for their work here, but they don't embarrass themselves.

To date, this may be the most focused performance given by the baby-faced Phillippe, who shows signs of developing into an actor. The same, unfortunately, cannot be said of Juliette Lewis, whose monotone delivery and flat performance relegate Robin to a necessity of the plot rather than a complex individual. During her career, Lewis has shown evidence of real talent on only one occasion - her debut in the Scorsese remake of Cape Fear. Since then, it has been all downhill, and The Way of the Gun does not reverse the trend. (un peu sévère avec Juliette Lewis quand même)

The movie is aptly named - The Way of the Gun offers a modern-day illustration of the familiar maxim: those who live by the sword die by the sword. McQuarrie's contribution is that they often do so in gory and excruciatingly unpleasant ways. The director should be given credit for taking numerous familiar plot elements from Westerns, including the abandoned town and the shoot-out, and adapting them in a way that makes them seem fresh. The Way of the Gun will be too bloody for many viewers, but for those who aren't turned off by the high level of violence, McQuarrie's first venture behind the camera offers an involving experience. Somewhere, Sam Peckinpah is smiling.

                                                    Bénicio del Toro (excellent)