Friday, 2 August 2024

Wild Card (Simon West, 2015)

Former mercenary Nick Wild (Jason Statham) is sleepwalking through life in Vegas, dreaming of escape but unable to find the means.


When an old friend, Holly (Dominik Garcia-Lorido) requests his help, Nick sees trouble and declines.


But try as he might, Nick cannot help being who he is - even if it means being trapped in Vegas for ever…





At the end of last year I watched a crappy transfer of 1986’s Heat on Youtube.


And I have not stopped thinking about it.

It helped that earlier this year one of my favourite podcasts, ActionBoyz, waxed lyrical about it in an episode.


I love that movie.


I cannot believe I’m writing this but it has overtaken the Michael Mann movie in my brain when I think of the word.


That probably won’t last but who cares?


Heat is not a hidden masterpiece. I find it to be fascinating because it does not work, despite some absolute gold elements - Reynolds is fantastic, the film is well-cast, and that scene where Nick wins and loses a fortune is worth the price of admission.


It is perfect fodder for a remake. Clearly Jason Statham felt the same way.


A long-time passion project for Statham, he was going to make it with Brian De Palma, but the maestro dropped out and Con Air’s Simon West took over. I guess this counts as one area where the remake is an improvement, compared with the behind-the-scenes musical chairs of the original movie.


The cast is solid, particularly Michael Angarano as Nick’s would-be protege, and Milo Ventimiglia as the sadistic mobster spawn Danny DeMarco.


I have a theory why Statham wanted to make this film - and it has a lot to do with that central moment when the main character goes back to the gambling table.


I have a feeling Statham watched that poker scene in the original movie and wanted to capture its singular magic.


This is probably just conjecture, but watching this movie’s version of that scene is that it is the one moment where I feel Statham meld with the character.


The scene is basically the same - Nick goes on a winning streak and goes back to the tables one time too many, losing it all.


When Nick loses, Statham lets the machismo go. The camera holds on him and it seems like the actor is genuinely disconcerted. And as the shot lingers, the famously stoic star shows an emotion I have never seen from the Transporter: despair.


For one gloriously bleak moment, Statham’s persona falls away and we left watching Nick Wild, addict. You can clock the character coming to his senses, and the self-loathing that follows.

 

It is a small beat but it stands out - it feels like Statham is genuinely invested in this character’s lowest and most exposed moment.


I am agnostic on his performance in the rest of the film, but he nails this scene so well it re-energised me for the rest of the movie.


One area where this picture improves on the original is the final fight - Nick kills Danny (Ventimiglia) with a spoon, in a neat extension of his penchant for  ‘edged weapons’ that highlights how pathetic his nemesis is.


The issue with both films is that I come away unsure of what either film is saying. After watching both versions, I think I have more clarity.


Nick is a character who is trapped by both a vice and skill set which are bad for him - they both carry consequences for him.


Las Vegas as an environment enables both. 

 

That is not a theme as such - it is more that the films never really resolve his character.I think the 1986 version is a bit stronger in this respect, at least in that I buy Reynolds admitting that he is an addict.


While the central character wins at the end, there is something lacking. What was it all about? 


Maybe I am overlooking something. Maybe that gambling scene is so powerful, the story cannot come to a satisfying conclusion. 


I am not sure I will ever watch Wild Card again. But I feel like my interest in Heat, in all its versions, is not spent.


There is something in this story that I cannot shake. It is like an equation with an X to be solved. There is something deeper to this story and character, something that resonates, something that neither of these adaptations are able to truly bottle.


Maybe that something is William Goldman’s book. Maybe the transfer to a new medium is the issue.


Or maybe there is a third Heat/Wild Card waiting in the mind of some screenwriter, a film yet to be willed into existence. 


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