The subject of months of fanboy speculation, writer / director Michael Davis’ Shoot ‘Em Up finally arrives in theaters this weekend. A while back a series of simple, to-the-point animatics Davis designed to help sell his concept (what amounted to an end-to-end filmic shoot-out) popped up online and people began talking. Gun fights while delivering a baby? Check. Gun fights during sex? Check. Gun fights while sky diving? Check. The idea of someone extracting the DNA of a vintage John Woo gun battle and stretching it to absurdist lengths resonated and the project came to fruition with a dream of an eclectic cast – Clive Owen, Paul Giamatti, Monica Bellucci – and the backing of a major studio (New Line). The finished film tows the line of living up to and being a victim of its own hype.
Moments after being introduced to Clive Owen’s “Smith” we’re watching him blow away a cadre of black-clad gunmen (led by Giamatti, loosing a breathy southern snarl of an accent) in an attempt to save a mysterious pregnant woman. Smith ends up charged with her newborn and goes to proverbial hooker with a heart of gold Bellucci for help. In short order they’re on the run from Giamatti’s endless stream of thugs and find themselves embroiled in a twisted scheme to preserve the health of a presidential candidate in cahoots with the gun lobby.
When Shoot ‘Em Up works it’s an enjoyable firecracker lark, a long-form Merry Melody chock full of gore and T’n’A (Owen’s propensity for munching on carrots and Giamatti’s resemblance to Elmer Fudd must be noted). In addition to the sequences mentioned above the film concocts a number of outré scenarios in which Smith does battle, and it allows the audience room to laugh at the sheer silliness of the proceedings.
The film missteps, badly, when it tries injecting “meaning” into its protagonists’ actions and its illogical plot mechanics. Efforts to build back story for Owen and Bellucci fall flat and fly against the film’s “and away we go!” ethos, and too much time spent on the politico subplot only draws attention to the story’s glaring lack of structure. Of the performers Giamatti seems to have the most fun, screeching with wide-eyed disbelief at Owen’s droll, two-fisted super-human antics. There’s a sweet air to Bellucci and Owen interacting with their surrogate child, but it's hard not counting off the minutes (usually seconds) until the next volley of lead when they’re cooing over baby Oliver.
Davis directs his action sequences up close and personal, and at times you wish he’d had either the wherewithal and/or resources to simply let things play out wide in light of the glimpses of choreography given. A mid-film car chase and the afore-mentioned sky diving sequence supply impressive action highlights, and a strobe-lit confrontation between Owen and Giamatti in a brothel pulses with a loopy grindhouse energy all its own. Legendary HK cinematographer Peter Pau (Swordsman and The Bride with White Hair among many, many others) bathes the film in a wide palette of vibrant colors.
Not the out-and-out distillation of its genre it hoped to be, the reality of Shoot ‘Em Up doesn’t disappoint but doesn’t really thrill either. It would’ve been better served by adopting the hair-brained (and most importantly) breezy attitude found in Luc Besson’s Transporter films (which it already curbs from), where the Teflon hero isn’t weighed down by gravity, let alone personal demons. Davis clearly has an eye for action and an ear for comedy, and both are served in Shoot ‘Em Up, just not to the level hoped for. Not an instant classic, but not a bad way for action fans to spend a Saturday afternoon either.