John Wick: Chapter 2 (dir. by Chad Stahelski) Review

Posted on February 28, 2026 by Arleigh

“You stabbed the devil in the back and forced him back into the life that he had just left. You incinerated the priest’s temple, burned it to the ground. Now he’s free… What do you think he’ll do?” — Winston Scott

John Wick: Chapter 2 picks up right where the first film left off, diving headfirst into a world of high-stakes assassinations and stylish revenge with Keanu Reeves back as the grieving, unstoppable hitman. It’s a sequel that doubles down on the balletic action and expands the mythology without losing that raw, personal edge from the original. Directed by Chad Stahelski, it delivers non-stop thrills but occasionally stumbles with its sprawling plot and relentless pace.

John Wick is trying to lay low after avenging his dog’s death and reclaiming his car, but fate—or more specifically, a blood oath called a “marker”—drags him back into the game. An Italian crime lord named Santino D’Antonio cashes in that marker, forcing Wick to assassinate his own sister so Santino can take over the family empire. What starts as a reluctant job spirals into a city-wide manhunt, with Wick racking up bodies across New York and Rome while navigating the Continental Hotel’s strict no-kill rules and the politics of a shadowy assassin network. The story is still simple at its core—do a job, get betrayed, fight your way out—but it peels back more layers of this underworld, introducing gold coins as currency, tailors who outfit killers like runway models, and sommeliers who pair firearms with clients like fine wine.

Keanu Reeves owns the role here, his stoic intensity and physical commitment making every punch and headshot feel earned. He’s not exactly stretching himself as an actor—his deadpan delivery borders on monotone—but in this context, that restraint works, turning Wick into a mythic figure who’s equal parts broken widower and relentless killing machine. The supporting cast adds plenty of flavor: Common shines as Cassian, Santino’s loyal bodyguard and Wick’s equal in a fight, with their subway duel using silenced pistols becoming an instant standout for its mix of tension and dark humor. Ian McShane returns as Winston, the Continental’s suave manager, bringing a dry, almost amused detachment to the chaos, while Ruby Rose makes an impression as Ares, Santino’s mute enforcer whose sign-language threats and sharp physicality speak louder than words. Laurence Fishburne appears as the Bowery King, chewing scenery and hinting at deeper rivalries to come. Not every character is fully fleshed out—Santino himself sometimes veers into cartoonish villain territory—but the ensemble keeps the film lively and fun to watch.

The action is where John Wick: Chapter 2 truly shines, cranking the first film’s gun-fu into something close to operatic. Much of the authenticity in the gunplay choreography stems from Keanu Reeves’ legendary dedication to his craft—he trained extensively with celebrity gun trainer Taran Butler and Taran Tactical Innovations, becoming an expert 3-gun practitioner in the process. Taran Tactical not only provided the custom guns for this film and its subsequent sequels but also helped craft the realistic, fluid shooting sequences that feel like a masterclass in tactical movement. The opening car chase and warehouse brawl set the tone, with Wick dismantling goons using everything from knives to close-quarters takedowns. Later comes the much-teased moment where he turns a humble pencil into a lethally precise weapon. The Rome sequence is a highlight: Wick moves through catacombs and nightclubs like a walking arsenal, turning ancient corridors into a bullet-riddled maze, then facing a relentless wave of assassins amid concert lights and stone arches. The stairwell brawl with Cassian is brutal and almost slapstick in its escalation, as the two tumble down step after step, refusing to quit. A hall-of-mirrors shootout plays with reflection and distortion, turning gunfights into something visually playful as well as deadly. The camera stays steady and clear, letting you appreciate the choreography instead of hiding it behind shaky cam and quick cuts, which makes the violence feel both visceral and strangely elegant.

Visually, the film is a neon-soaked feast, trading the first movie’s moody blues for more varied, vibrant palettes. Cinematography leans into bold colors and strong compositions: the Continental’s warm golds, Rome’s stony greys and rich reds, New York’s cold night streets lit by harsh white and electric signage. The production design sells the assassin world as both stylish and slightly surreal. You get bespoke atelier shops that sell tactical suits lined with experimental ballistic-resistant fabric, underground vaults where every weapon looks museum-ready, and Continental sommeliers who double as gun experts, recommending the best weapons for whatever task is at hand. The score and sound design lean heavily into pulsing electronic beats and percussive hits that sync with the rhythm of gunshots and blows, giving big set pieces a musical, almost dance-like quality.

That said, the film is not without its flaws. At a little over two hours, it sometimes feels like it’s indulging its world-building at the expense of pacing. The explanation of markers, excommunication rules, and the High Table is cool in theory, but the movie occasionally pauses too long to explain its own lore when you’d rather keep the momentum going. Compared to the raw emotional drive of the first film—where a dead dog and stolen car were more than enough to get you fully on Wick’s side—this one’s central motivation feels more mechanical. He’s bound by honor and obligation here, which makes sense for the character, but doesn’t hit with the same gut-level impact. There’s also less room for genuine character development; Wick mostly shifts between “tired” and “angry,” and the supporting cast, as entertaining as they are, tend to orbit him rather than grow in their own right.

Tone-wise, John Wick: Chapter 2 leans even harder into heightened, borderline comic-book absurdity. The idea that there are assassins on every street corner, all answering the same call, is fun but pushes the world toward parody if you think too hard about it. The body count is enormous, the kill shots are almost always headshots, and the film rarely slows down to let the gravity of that register. There are moments of humor—deadpan exchanges, visual gags, Wick’s resigned reactions to yet another betrayal—that keep it from feeling grim, but they’re more like pressure valves than fully integrated wit. If you’re looking for commentary on violence or a deconstruction of the hitman myth, this isn’t that movie. It’s more interested in giving you the cleanest, slickest version of the fantasy and trusting you to go along for the ride.

On representation and subtext, the movie is pretty standard action fare: mostly male, mostly focused on coolness over any deeper exploration of gender, race, or class. Characters like Ares and Gianna D’Antonio hint at more interesting female perspectives within this world, but they’re quickly sidelined or removed from play. The Bowery King’s network suggests a class-conscious angle—homeless people as invisible eyes and ears of the city—but the film doesn’t dwell on it beyond the “secret army in plain sight” trope. None of this ruins the film, but it does keep it from feeling particularly fresh outside of its choreography and design.

Where the movie really succeeds is in firmly establishing John Wick as an ongoing franchise rather than a one-off surprise hit. The ending pushes Wick into even more precarious territory and sets up a larger arc without feeling like pure sequel bait. It expands the playground, raises the stakes, and leaves him in a place where you genuinely want to see what comes next. If the first film was a tightly contained revenge story, John Wick: Chapter 2 is the moment the series decides to become a full-blown saga.

Overall, John Wick: Chapter 2 is a stylish, hyper-violent, and extremely entertaining sequel that leans into its strengths—choreography, world-building, and Keanu Reeves’ physical presence—while showing a few growing pains in pacing and emotional weight. It may not have the purity or surprise factor of the original, but it compensates by embracing a larger, crazier canvas and delivering some of the most memorable action set pieces of the last decade. If you’re on board with the idea of a grief-stricken assassin turning his pain into an art form of meticulously staged carnage, this chapter absolutely delivers.

Weapons used by John Wick throughout the film

Glock 34 (TTI Combat Master Package): His go-to sidearm early on, customized by Taran Tactical Innovations (TTI); dual-wielded in the catacombs and against Gianna’s guards in Rome.
Heckler & Koch P30L (compensator-fitted): Opens the film disarming a henchman; buried post-use along with first-film gear.
Kimber Super Carry Custom (reverse two-tone, compensator): Provided by the Bowery King and used chasing Santino.
TTI TR-1 Ultralight (AR-15 carbine build): Iconic Rome rifle from the sommelier, with BCM mods, Trijicon scope, and PRI compensator; catacombs massacre shootout.
Benelli M4 Super 90 (TTI customized): Sommelier special in Rome; shredded through catacombs enemies.

John Wick Franchise (spinoffs)

John Wick

Icarus File No. 10: 88 (dir by Eromose)

Posted on September 4, 2023 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Femi Jackson (Brandon Victor Dixon) is a recovering alcoholic with a pregnant wife and a past-due mortgage who totally and completely believes in a presidential candidate named Harold Roundtree (Orlando Jones). A former baker-turned-politician, Roundtree is running for the 2024 Democratic presidential nomination on a platform of small government and personal responsibility. That really doesn’t sound like a platform for success in a Democratic primary but whatever. Let’s just go with it.

Femi has been hired as financial director for a SuperPAC that is raising money for the Roundtree campaign. Femi notices that many of the donations are being submitted in numbers that add up to 88. When he takes this news to his friend Ira Goldstein (Thomas Sadoski), Ira reveals that 88 is a code that Neo-Nazis use to identify each other. Femi and Ira do more digging and they discover that, throughout his entire life, Roundtree has been receiving financial aide from various rich men, all of whom sent Roundtree’s sums of money that all add up to 88. Femi questions why Neo-Nazis would do something that makes it so easy to identify them. Ira replies that they’re marking their territory.

While Howard Roundtree records an interview with a left-wing commentator (William Fichtner), Femi tracks down and meets with an elderly and repentant Neo-Nazi (Jonathan Weir), who now needs an oxygen tank to breathe and who lives in an isolated house with his black wife. Femi is later approached by a volunteer in the SuperPAC’s office, who informs him that the only way that White Supremacy can survive is by latching onto a black politician like Harold Roundtree. Femi and Ira prepare to meet with Rountree, with Femi still convinced that he has no idea who is secretly funding his campaign.

While this is going on, Femi’s wife (Naturi Naughton) tries to help an ex-con achieve a bank loan despite the opposition of her sister (who also works for the bank) while Femi’s son, Ola (Jeremiah King), gets in trouble at school for showing his classmates a video of a school shooting. It turns out that Femi’s brother-in-law is not only a cop but he’s also white and he agrees to drive Ola to school so that Ola can see that not all cops are bad. Ola’s obvious fear as he walks out to the squad car indicates that the experiment, no matter how well-intentioned, is probably not going to work.

88 is certainly an ambitious film and the opening minutes, which features Femi’s wife explaining why Black Panther is not the empowering and progressive film that Femi believes it to be, suggest that the film has the potential to be interesting. And throughout the film, there are little moments that do work, like the scene where Femi tells his son how to react if he’s ever pulled over by a cop. Unfortunately, the majority of the film is a clumsily-acted and talky mix of melodrama and heavy-messaging, one that tries to duplicate the style of Spike Lee’s agitprop but instead ends up feeling more like a secular and politically progressive version of the God’s Not Dead films than anything else. The film drags on for 2 full hours with Brandon Victor Dixon’s nerdy blandness failing to provide the narrative momentum to keep the action interesting. As well, Orlando Jones is perhaps the least convincing presidential front runner that I’ve ever seen in a film, speaking a cadences that appear to be specifically patterned on Barack Obama but suggesting none of the charisma that would be necessary to captivate a nation. Again, the film deserves some praise for having the ambition to actually be about something more than just selling toys and comic books but, in the end, it’s earnest dullness and heavy-handed messaging fails to hold one’s attention.

Previous Icarus Files:

Film Review: Wild (dir by Jean-Marc Vallee)

Posted on January 6, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Wild opens with Cheryl Strayed (played by Reese Witherspoon) standing on the edge of a cliff. She has been hiking for days and, because her hiking boots are too small, she’s limping and in a great deal of pain. She takes off a boot and a sock and stares at her bloody big toe. With trembling fingers, she removes what is left of her big toenail. And then, she throws her boot over the edge of the cliff while screaming, “FUCK YOU!”

And, from that moment, Wild had me.

For the next two hours, I sat there and I was absolutely enthralled as Cheryl, an aspiring writer and a recovering drug addict who was still struggling to come to terms with the death of her mother (played, in heart-breaking flashbacks, by Laura Dern), hiked her way from the Mexican border up to the Canadian border. I watched as she learned how to survive in the wilderness, how she cautiously learned to trust some of her fellow hikers, and as she dealt with sexist rangers and creepy hunters.

And there were a lot of reasons why Wild held me so enthralled. There was Reese Witherspoon’s performance, for one thing. Reese is on screen during every minute of Wild and, for a lot of that time, she’s alone with her thoughts and her emotions. She gives an amazingly focused performance, one that should regain her some of the respect that she sacrificed by appearing in movies like This Means War and publicly asking, “Do you know who I am?” Both the film and Reese’s performance resist the temptation to idealize Cheryl. Instead, both the film and the performance feel real and because Cheryl comes across as a real person (flaws and all), it makes her journey and her achievement all the more powerful.

I couldn’t help but relate to Cheryl. Like her, I’m an aspiring writer. Like her, I’m still learning how to deal with the loss of my mom. Like her, I have trust issues. Like her, I am sometimes too stubborn for my own good. Like her, I like to leave quotes in guest books. Like her, I always pack a few paperbacks before I go on a trip and I like to write in my journal. Like Cheryl, I’m a survivor and I’m proud of it.

Unlike Cheryl, however, I’ve never gone hiking and I doubt if I ever will. As much as I loved Wild (and it’s definitely one of my favorite films of 2014), it didn’t leave me with any great desire to go on a hike. That’s largely because of that first scene. When Cheryl threw away her boots and screamed, I thought to myself, “That would so be me.” Of course, the difference is that Cheryl did that after hiking for a month. I would probably end up doing that after the 2nd day. And then I’d turn around, go back home, and spend the weekend watching Netflix.

But here’s the thing: Wild is not really about hiking. Wild is about the journey. What’s important is not that Cheryl hiked but that Cheryl accomplished what she set out to do. No matter how difficult it got, no matter how many people told her she should give up, Cheryl walked from Mexico to Canada. By the end of the film, I felt like, if Cheryl could do that even with boots that were too small, than there was nothing that I could not do.

As a result, Wild is not only one of the best films of 2014.

It’s the most empowering as well.