This mildly humorous buddy movie doesn’t only cater to the older generation but it also makes a noteworthy statement. The Venice International Film Festival welcomed its dashing, yet aging stars, Brad Pitt and George Clooney, with open arms. However, there’s a bit of a cloud of worry marring the project’s success.
Just prior to the festival’s commencement, the revelation that Apple, who had already taken a few hits, decided to give the film a short run in US cinemas and only broadcast it on their streaming platform elsewhere. To see it at a movie theatre, Venice in Europe might be your only opportunity. When queried about this streaming trend of such big star movies, Clooney humorously remarked, “Obviously we’re fading. We are indeed fading.”
Despite all this, there doesn’t seem to be anything massively wrong with Wolfs. The admirably proceeded film, penned and directed by Jon Watts, the man behind the Spider-Man series’ recent financial triumphs, keeps viewers amused with its cranky punchlines and exaggerated violent scenes. However, it’s debatable whether this minor film would have landed a prime spot at Venice if the leading stars were a tad less well-known.
The plot begins with a somewhat bold first 30-minute sequence set solely in one room. A hard on crime District Attorney (Amy Ryan) is thrown into chaos when a man she recently encountered dies from crashing into a glass table at a plush hotel. Someone gave her a contact to call if she ever finds herself in a similar predicament. She makes the call and then, George Clooney appears as Jack, the symbol of wisdom in a grey-fox avatar.
Fitting nicely into an Anthony Powell novel’s character sketch, Jack believes that every question has an answer, much like every American. Like Winston Wolfe (the name resemblance is unmistakable) from Pulp Fiction, he is sure to find a resolution, irrespective of how tough it is; it’s what these hardened experienced fellows do.
Jack was already calming her and starting to clean up when Nick, played by Brad Pitt, casually walks in, intending to take over the job. He had been enlisted by an anonymous caller (I am inclined to believe it’s an uncredited Susan Sarandon) who convinces the vastly unwilling pair to collaborate. Things become intensely complex when they stumble upon roughly $250,000 worth of drugs inside a backpack.
No offence meant towards Pitt and George Clooney, but the script written by Watts may have been a better match for actors less youthful in appearance. The film doesn’t overflow with age-related humour, however, we do observe them groping for pain medication and awkwardly donning reading glasses to scrutinise minute print. Shut your eyes and it could be the voices of Statler and Waldorf from The Muppet Show complaining, but these actors – two of the few surviving movie celebrities, albeit their success less than anticipated – appear far too stylish, well-groomed and vibrant. The roles would have fitted perfectly with the late Alan Arkin and James Caan in their robust 60s.
Granted, the film’s flaw lies in too much elegance. The sleekness of Pitt and Clooney brings back memories of them in the Oceans’ series but the finesse in this movie seems to resemble George’s Nespresso advertisements. The entire spectacle is glossy enough to use as a mirror for makeup application. Every piece of attire looks as if it’s freshly delivered from the store. Each tooth sparkle with the brightness of a welding machine.
All the glitz and glamour doesn’t aid the film when, in its concluding sections, the characters, Wolfs, embark on a chaotic festive journey through New York’s cityscape. It harks back to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours and the soon-to-be Palme d’Or winner Anora by Sean Baker in its urban turbulence, but the tender vibe of Watts’s style purges all the grit, resulting in something along the lines of a streaming release.