Post-apocalypse movies are still
crawling out of the shadow of the The Road Warrior (1981). Even a more prestigious movie (i.e. not marketed as
a science-fiction or action film) like the The Road (2009) still draws
some of its aesthetics and ideas from George Miller’s creation. This often results in post-apocalypse films having
to push things further and further to differentiate themselves. Many Italian
films of the 1980’s went more outlandish and camp; 2019: After the Fall of New
York, The New Gladiators (1988), while the 1990’s included a dose of satire; Hardware (1990), Tank Girl (1995). Wired
to Kill separates itself by using both these elements and more interestingly, constantly setting up tropes and clichés inherent to the genre and then
resolving them in ways you don’t expect.
It’s the future and, as usual,
everything has gone to hell. There is no law enforcement, the government seems
to operate entirely through toll free help lines, people live in squalor (kinda)
and drugged-up maniacs roam the streets in a giant dump truck. A particular
gang , led by Shakespeare enthusiast, Reegus (Meritt Butrick), rob a
house and in the process, knock grandma around, poke mom in the eye, and break
her son’s legs. The son, Steve (Devin Hoelscher), along with his girlfriend
Rebecc,a (Emily Longstreth) vow revenge on Reegus and crew. Rather than attacking them
directly, Steve employs a few sneaky tricks like an adorable remote control
drone, fake cocaine, and a booby trapped motorcycle seat. Sadly for Steve and
thankfully for us, Reegus isn’t going to let these attacks go on without some
reprisals.
Wired to Kill sets itself up like
every other revenge tale. The bad guys strike at our hero unexpectedly, ruin his life, hurt those he loves, and push him to extremes to extract vengeance.
Although this is more or less what
happens, it doesn't quite play out as you would expect. The initial attack is
vicious, but Reegus leaves every one alive, if not intact. It’s only after Steve
talks to the beleaguered police that Reegus takes lethal action. Steve’s use of
stealth and technology while remaining largely hands off, or even worse,
getting his girlfriend to do the dirty work (well, his legs are broken but
still…) also makes for a much more engaging story.
Steve and Rebecca are never particularly remarkable. I understand that Steve’s family
has been put in danger, but I never really get a sense of him being passionate
or angry enough to do the things he does. Rebecca makes even less sense, since
she meets him for all of a day before getting tangled up in his revenge scheme.
Every last member of the gang is completely demented to the point where I don’t even know how they operate as a gang.
Even the setting is odd. Wired to Kill
has its share of rusted out industrial hellscapes, but these appear to be
nestled right next door to well-kept suburban neighborhoods, functioning
shops and hospitals. Rag wearing mutants occupy the same world as lawyers in flashy suits.
Perhaps the strangest and most startling thing is how fluid
and dreamlike the whole move feels. There are washes of music, slow dissolves, and
many shots where characters are held at a distance. Action scenes often lose a
sense of geography and take on a nightmare quality. The hazy transition into the
climax of the film is so odd at first I was convinced it was a dream
sequence.
If you’re looking for a post-apocalyptic revenge film that isn't an adrenaline fueled action piece but instead is something a lot quieter
and weirder, Wired to Kill stands out from the rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment