John Wick 3: Para Bellum

I can usually take or leave action flicks. I watch and enjoy them, but don't have a pressing need to rush out and see them opening day. The John Wick movies are a happy exception. I adore them, mostly because they aren't trying to be what they're not. They merrily dispense with such superfluous fripperies as plot and meaningful dialogue and jump straight to shooting the shit out of the faceless hordes for two hours. It's amazingly cathartic and refreshing, and I could happily watch John Wick murder a son of a bitch with a library book all day.

And of course he puts it back when he's finished. Because books are to be respected after they've done you the service of beating a motherfucker to death.

Mark Dacascos' character was an adorable delight, and I am in love with the unexpected combination of deadly, cold assassin and earnest, goofy, wide-eyed fanboy who wanted to be BFFs with Wick as much as he wanted the honor and prestige of killing him. I'm so sorry that he's dead, because I wanted him to flip sides and join Wick in his vengeance quest against the High Table.

I was also sorry that the movie ended where it did, because I wanted to see him wear those fuckers OUT, especially that smug adjudicator who was so sure she was untouchable, but I guess they needed to hold back something for the fourth movie.

And if they don't call it John Wick: Baba Yaga, I'll eat my unwashed shorts.