An overly convoluted plot boils down to, due to circumstances, former black ops operator Ada (Beckinsale) is pulled out of retirement to pull one last job in order to rescue her kidnapped daughter. Simple, straightforward, and so, so much more complicated. Her heist team includes her numbskull brother, Edward (Rasmus Hardiker, Cockneys Vs. Zombies); Curtis (Bailey Patrick, Andor), another former merc who owes her a life debt; and Roman (Lewis Tan, Mortal Kombat), with whom she has a tangled professional and romantic history.
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Beyond these building blocks, the criminal underworld of London has become a powder keg. Two established factions, one led by Christina Vine (Alice Krige, Star Trek), the other by Frasier Mahoney (Charles Dance, The Golden Child), vie for control, while a violent upstart outfit called the Mushka throws complications into the mix. They’re vaguely Eastern European-coded, and you can tell they’re vicious because they wear skull masks. The vague plan is to stage their robbery to pit these sides against one another to distract everyone until they get Ada’s daughter back. Dominic Burns’ script puts a lot into this element, for little-to-no return. Then there is, of course, Ada’s obligatory traumatic backstory. It’s all very overly dense, from both a storytelling perspective and from within the world of the film.
Nunn’s bread and butter is the lean, mean, stripped down tactical action that the One Shot movies showcase. Wildcat has plenty of that. Shootouts and fights are meticulously staged and executed, and the result will more than satisfy fans. This less constrained narrative framework allows him to play around with the characters in a setting that, while propulsive, is not non-stop go-go-go. They get to banter and play off one another with a more hang-out kind of vibe in the midst of the swirling chaos. While some of this hits, some of this misses, but it’s almost always too much. Both in a general sense and from scene to scene. There are simply too many side quests, tangents, and unnecessary digressions that go on for too long.
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Beckinsale and Tan have solid chemistry. They may not set the world ablaze with their undeniable white-hot sparks, or reach great emotional depths, but they get the job done and they make a fun duo. The movie gets its money’s worth watching attractive badasses do badass things. Beckinsale has this deep, raspy, Lauren Bacall chain-smoker voice going on that’s rad. But the script too often separates them so they can fart about on their own, which is much less compelling. This includes Ada’s visit to the least kinky, most sanitized S&M club ever depicted on screen—it feels written by someone who has only ever seen sex clubs depicted in mainstream movies and TV, populated by characters clad in leather bondage gear standing around with zero clue what to do next. It’s very funny.
Edward has an ill-defined set of mental problems—maybe it’s PTSD related, maybe it’s from brain trauma, it’s never clarified. What it does is allow him to function in whatever unhinged, irrational manner the script requires to further the plot and ratchet things up for no real reason. Fortunately, he has a good rapport with the gruff, no nonsense Curtis. The two have some entertaining blowups, especially when hanging out the flat of Curtis’ mate, Galloway (Tom Bennett, House of the Dragon). Unfortunately, however, this goes on and on and on, as they spend most of the middle of the movie just hanging out in some random dude’s apartment. The script runs out of things to do to the point where it forces conflict with a downstairs neighbor, just so they have something to do. The attempts to add laughs and levity can be fun for a momentary distraction now and again, but they inevitably overstay their welcome and turn tedious.
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Krige and Dance only have a handful of scenes each, but their respective legendary status gives them weight and gravitas. Dance only has two scenes, one early, one late, and the early scene may only be two or three shots. Despite limited screen time, both get the chance to invoke blood-chilling terror, Krige especially. While Dance kills with a withering stare, she bounces seamlessly from warm, caring grandmother to ruthless gangster torturing information out of those unfortunate enough to know what she wants to know.
Overall, Wildcat achieves what it sets out to accomplish. The action is crisp and concise, executed with coherence and a masterful eye. It rips and carries the rest of the film through any down spells. With the side characters and attempts at comic relief, your mileage may vary—some will enjoy it, while others are sure to find it grating—though it’s largely innocuous. I’m generally on the hook for this mid-tier type of Kate Beckinsale-fronted bang, bang shoot-em-up, and this is better than some (Canary Black), not as good as others (Jolt). But with James Nunn at the helm, you can always hang your hat on the action. [Grade: B-]
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