The Gray Man (2022)
Directors: Anthony Russo, Joe Russo
Screenwriters: Joe Russo, Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Billy Bob Thornton, Regé-Jean Page, Jessica Henwick, Julia Butters, Dhanush, Alfre Woodard

Have we not grown tired of this nonsense yet? It seems that in no walk of life are we beyond the reaches of work, in this case able to escape the foundational layer of an endless Content-As-Capitalism pie, our watch-time as valuable to the oncoming advertisers-as-customers “service” model as it is to the ruling class of economy-shaping shareholders currently competing for our attention and then taking away anything we’re mildly interested in the moment we stop serving their needs. It’s all very boring, and movies-as-content streaming releases are as lacking in personality, in artistry, as your average Happy Meal. “Shove the shooty bang bangs down with some handsome actor soup” seems to be the advice of the capitalist doctor, “don’t think, just earn us money by spending your time”. It’s seemingly endless, and they churn out more “content” each week thinking it’s a bottomless meal, but there is surely a threshold we must be inching towards? Not everything can be this utterly lifeless.

Anthony Russo and Joe Russo have certainly proven themselves as makers-of-hits, the directorial duo responsible for a serious uptick in the Captain America franchise as well as the two greatest Marvel juggernauts of all time, Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. They excelled in their young careers as directors of action, and post-MCU have edged back towards more traditional versions of the genre (both as directors and producers). In their latest direct-to-streaming effort, Netflix’s The Gray Man, their talents at identifying the foundations of action cinema’s greatest appeal is clear: they have aimed to show us parts of the world we don’t often get to see, they’ve filled each fight scene with colours and contrasts in light, the 1.5x speed edit of the stunt work has once again amped up the brutality and impact of each point of contact, and they’ve cast plenty of attractive people in fashionable clothes doing trailer-friendly poses. But in wanting so desperately to do these things, and being motivated to do so because of how ticking these boxes is the formula in town for selling a project to an astonishingly rich and always-attention-grabbing streaming service, the brothers Russo have effectively foregone any duty of care to their audience or their form, shaping nothing more than an almost-Bourne, an almost-Bond, an almost-Captain America. They have, undoubtedly, in their soulless presentation of the most ill-conceived of all of 2022’s blockbusters, reached tragic self-parody.

“Film by algorithm” is a phrase thrown around at anything lacking an inch of originality but presented with a big tech-firm-backed budget, and The Gray Man could certainly be associated with these Red Notice-type films, its overwhelming pursuit of every inch of virality coming at great detriment to an already weak and underdeveloped plot. Why have any meaningful interaction when you can (not even ironically) play every showdown like the concluding shot of a cheap perfume advert or video game choose-your-character screen, each depthless man’s man walking towards the other against some uncanny valley-level-bad backdrop created by CGI? The star power ensures it will sell well in those 6 seconds of YouTube ads we are fed before “skip ad” pops up, and it’ll probably reach a few million people via TikTok because of this. Who knows if the actors were even in the same room. It doesn’t even matter if they were or not… this isn’t meaningful or even professional filmmaking, it’s cheap and wholehearted exploitation. Exploitation of us, of course, but also of the form itself. This is faux film. It is, like faux fur, very close to something else (in this case something we once associated with, once were enlightened by), but isn’t actually that thing at all. It’s like Coca Cola in 2022, a product not even close to resembling the very thing its logo represents.

Like 2021’s “big Netflix blockbuster” Red Notice, The Gray Man lacks the capacity to move beyond product and into the realm of art, but at least Red Notice had the natural nod and wink presences of a Ryan Reynolds and Dwayne Johnson, as well as all the “watch for a bit of fun” aspects that underpin each actor’s career. In The Gray Man, Ryan Gosling and Chris Evans are dull. They’re boring. They’re gray.

Whatever happened to the movie star? Must even the critically acclaimed and always brooding Ryan Gosling be stomped into the streaming service carpet? Was taking Leonardo DiCaprio not enough of a sacrifice? It’s a shame that someone as talented and as versatile as Gosling would be interested in playing the typical mass murderer with a heart of gold for a streaming service uninterested in painting that archetype in any kind of colour, and it’s a really odd experience to see the man who was magnetic as a silent-killer-type in Only God Forgives (2013) effectively play back the same gimmick only with one tenth of the effectiveness. In The Gray Man he is uninterested, barely present, a shadow of the actor that lit up The Other Guys, that anchored Drive, and he is written as if barely present too – a mere wooden board from which other characters can bounce exposition off.

Similarly, Billy Bob Thornton seems to have forgotten who in the hell he is, while Alfre Woodard is about as present as a round of bullets in this gun-friendly actionothon. Ana de Armas can come out of this with a little bit of credit, and thus continues her streak of diverse and charismatic performances, but walking “other Netflix products” promo Regé-Jean Page is astoundingly out of his depth, the ‘Bridgerton’ actor chewing up scenery as a non-descript bad guy with some of the worst over-acting since Harry Melling’s laughably over-the-top performance in Netflix’s The Old Guard (2021).

It is, however, Chris Evans who takes the biscuit. The Russo Brothers’ favourite collaborator probably didn’t even think twice about answering the phone to the filmmakers who saved his turn as one of the most recognisable characters on Earth, but he hasn’t been this outlandish and simply unbelievable since Not Another Teen Movie in 2001 – this is certainly more The Losers than Sunshine or Snowpiercer. His handlebar moustache, slicked-back undercut and shoes without socks make for an idea of someone interesting, especially when played by a one-time America’s Sweetheart, but he’s a walking viral campaign. Some of his scenes have already become TikTok sounds. It’s not because they’re good, it’s because they’re funny. And they’re not funny because they’re well written or well-performed, but because it’s odd to see someone like Chris Evans shout that he got shot in the ass. It’s basic humour that is better served by the Minions, and Evans’ embrace of its silliness only worsens an already frankly ridiculous antagonist. He stands around shouting a lot, clearly restricted by recording parts of his role during the pandemic, and despite all this needless vocal interaction reducing anticipation of his inevitable confrontation with Gosling, the resulting conversation and fight still doesn’t manage to clear a very low bar.

It is this, the forced reduction of anticipation followed by an even more underwhelming result, that is the crux of the problem with The Gray Man. It is a film too long and too boring for low attention spans but constructed to appeal to those same people, thus isolating both ends of the spectrum. Fights are mediocre at best, the CGI is in places so bad it’s unforgiveable (they literally blur some moments so as to not have to animate them), the cinematography looks exactly like it was filmed in a green screen studio with actors walking on treadmills, there is an uncomfortable affinity with using cheap and nasty drone shots as establishing shots then placing big and bold location tags over them, and the script’s foundations are beyond basic (even including a “big house for lots of guns” ending, and a very on-the-nose hedge maze chase sequence). Everything else – the score, the colour grading, the wardrobe, etc. – is simply so by-the-book it’s barely noticeable, and in being so is probably the only solid aspect of this feature-length streaming presentation.

The Gray Man is not Netflix’s Bond movie, even if Bond’s inspiration is so present that the main character is named Six (“because 007 was taken” – an actual line from the movie). It is boring, shallow, utterly forgettable so-called action cinema; a movie made by executives for executives; a blot on the careers of both Gosling and Evans. Cinema has never been the exclusive realm of the artistic, but once upon a time there was a need for any given film to be unique enough or good enough to sell itself (first in the cinema, then on home video, then to television), and in a summer that has seen paying audiences embrace quality filmmaking in record-shattering ways for the likes of Everything Everywhere All at Once and Top Gun: Maverick, it is simply damming to the film industry to witness another lifeless and soulless product like this encroach into the same space. Enough is enough.

3/24

In this Movie List from The Film Magazine, we’re looking into what makes this off-kilter Christmas movie so memorable in this, the 10 Best Bad Santa Moments.

Follow @thefilmagazine on Twitter.

10. The Opening Credits

Willie props up a bar, dressed in his red and white finery, and makes it abundantly clear he is furious at the world. Within seconds the audience is completely clear about Willie as a character. He doesn’t look the part, and certainly doesn’t act the part. He is as miserable as he is scrawny. Within a few minutes we are subjected to a drunken St Nick puking orange onto freshly fallen snow as the words Bad Santa appear on screen next to him. It sets the tone perfectly. Does a more fitting opening in cinematic history exist?

9. Willie Beats Up the Bullies

Willie is nearly always in his Santa suit during the film, even if it has dropped around his ankles. So, when he attacks Thurman’s tormentors he is indeed dressed as Santa Claus. It’s not big and it’s not clever but the image of Kris Kringle attacking children is certainly striking. Willie’s heart is in the right place, but this misguided move is almost too much to stomach. Even if these kids definitely belong on the naughty list. The vigorous arm swinging is such a stark contrast to the previous scene – Willie in a car, suicidal and alone. The need to protect Thurman revives him but even when doing something good, he’s doing something terribly terribly bad.

Bad Santa is one of those Christmas films that has a tendency to slip under the radar. It never seems to be a well-known film, but equally it’s not unheard of. In truth, it’s not a typical Christmas film and it’s certainly not one of the first films shown on TV leading up to the festive season; it’s no family favourite. Bad Santa is a comedy that goes against the traditional Christmas film, it glorifies crooks who commit robberies during Christmas and depicts a sex and drink obsessed Santa Claus. With the most profanities in any Christmas film, Bad Santa is the perfect film for those who don’t enjoy traditional Christmas films, but it’s still a film that deserves more recognition as an enjoyable holiday season movie.

Bad Santa is a story about a depressed and miserable con man, Willie (Thornton), who dresses up as Santa every December with his partner in crime Marcus (Cox), Santa’s chief elf. Together they go from shopping centre to shopping centre posing as Santa and his elf for children but, on the last night, they break into the stores and rob them before Christmas. This year Willie’s heightened bad behaviour has gotten worse as he shows little regard for clashing his frequent inappropriate behaviour with his work. This alerts the security chief of the shopping centre (Mac), who slowly becomes aware of their plan. All the while, Willie’s miserable approach to Christmas begins to change as he befriends a troubled child and starts dating a local barmaid, Sue (Graham), who both show him the true meaning of Christmas and slowly influence him to change his ways.

The image of a drunk Santa Claus stopping to vomit in an alleyway amidst heavy Christmas snow is the not so picturesque opening and tone for a Coen brothers-devised screenplay of the most audacious Christmas film ever produced. Bad Santa parodies the happy, festive and family side of Christmas by creating the character of Willie who is the complete opposite: he has no family, he hates Christmas and he’s miserable. In fact, Bad Santa is almost a live-action retelling of The Grinch. Willie is a man who distances himself from everyone else, with one exception. He hates Christmas and he’s envious of those who are happy and celebrate it so, like the Grinch, rather than embrace it, he steals it. Willie doesn’t necessarily steal from the townspeople like the Grinch does, but he does steal from its main source of Christmas gifts, which is perhaps more of a symbolic reference. Just like the Grinch, Willie’s feelings and attitudes are changed when he meets a small child, who teaches him the true meaning of Christmas and influences him to change his ways and celebrate Christmas like everyone else. Willie is more of an ‘adults’ Grinch: he drinks, smokes, he’s a sex pest and has little to no regard to anyone else’s well-being.

Thornton does an exceptional job at playing the troubled Santa impersonator. Everything he does just seems so natural and believable for the character he’s playing – most of this could be down to the fact he was genuinely drunk during some parts of filming. Thornton simply epitomizes the low-life booze addict and nails every single mannerism and detail you would expect from his character. Whilst he doesn’t expel likeability, we can appreciate that he his a tragic character. At the very start of the film he accepts his miserable life through a dark monologue, which has made him who he is, and he acknowledges and accepts that he’ll never be able to change. Yet, throughout the film he has moments where he shows not only that he can be a good person, but that he even enjoys it. Willie’s occasional moments of redemption clash with his persistent outbreaks, which help maintain a consistent feeling of sympathy towards his tragic character. This balance is further portrayed through Marcus, who spends most of his time criticising and insulting Willie, insisting he’s on a constant downward spiral and through Sue, who sees and helps bring out the best in him. Further credit goes to Cox and Mac for their hilarious comedic performances – Cox whose memorable one-liners and insults get better as his relationship with Willie gets worse and Mac whose on-screen presence dominates anyone he shares the screen with.

The only criticism I could really give the film is where it borders on being believable. A film doesn’t necessarily have to be believable to be good, even more so in comedy films as more often than not comedy plot-lines sit on top of a ridiculous idea or circumstance. However, there’s still a degree of it being believable that’s required. In Bad Santa it’s very difficult to believe that Willie and Marcus get away with a lot of their behaviour, the film doesn’t go into detail on how they’ve pulled off seven successful jobs prior, but that’s not really the issue. The issue lies in Willie himself who makes little to no effort in being a believable santa to the children; drinking on the job, falling asleep and showing no joy or effort in general at being a convincing Santa. This issue is raised by the shopping centre’s manager, who is blackmailed into keeping them on until Christmas, but it doesn’t explain the parents themselves who would surely not want to expose their children to such a character. It’s hard to believe they get as far as they do, let alone that they have been successful for seven years.

Director Terry Zwigoff creates a festive atmosphere without going too cheesy and overboard whilst maintaining a dark comedic undertone. It’s not a Christmas film for everyone, it’s a film that draws in comedy, Christmas and even non-Christmas fans. It’s a film that doesn’t take itself too seriously and I know I’ve explained this before, but people often forget that films don’t have to be award winners to be good, some films are simply made to entertain and Bad Santa is one of them. Not the most creative or thought-out story, but a decent script, convincing acting and a wonderfully festive soundtrack.

16/24