I've been missing a few Film Fridays lately, partially because mental health has just kinda been like that and partially because I've been struggling with a slightly more meaty analysis that my brain just won't let me figure out properly. As such, I'm going to get into the swing of things again with a movie that is pretty stupid, and I say that with all possible love and admiration.
Ladybug isn't really comfortable with the title of hitman anymore, he's trying out a more harmonic life, but even so he does find it in himself to undertake what should by all accounts be a simple last-minute job. Board the eponymous train, grab a suitcase, and get off at the next station. Oh, were it only so easy. Turns out said bullet train is flush with kooky assassins and hitmen who are either out for the suitcase, the lives of one or more of each other, or have larger and more ominous designs.
There's Ladybug, of course, the quirky pair of British wetworks men Lemon and Tangerine out to escort a drugged-out VIP and a suitcase full of money, notorious and sneaky The Hornet who's skulking about somewhere, the megalomaniacal but brilliant Prince playing a larger game with the life of desperate father Kimura's child as ante, as well as the hot-headed Wolf who is out for vengeance and a paycheck, but mostly the vengeance thing. It's quite the web of coincidences, interferences, and merry chaos as these murderers navigate the crowded train.
It's chaotic, but one throughline that honestly makes the constant shifting priorities and allegiances of Ladybug and the other hitmen work is that it's all a job to them, a very messy job that may or may not be arranged by a Russian usurper of the Yakuza crime syndicate known as White Death, but still a job. Whenever it's expedient for our heroes and antiheroes to not kill each other, they'll show professional courtesy to each other, bantering in that "a little bit too cool" stylized way that's second nature to Hollywood assassins.
What sets the banter apart, though, is a distinct sense of humor. Lemon, much to Tangerine's annoyance, has a theory of human personalities and moral character based on Thomas The Tank Engine. Ladybug has luck that fluctuates wildly between being impossibly good and impossibly bad, and he has a problem with remembering faces which makes some of the networking with his fellow killers challenging. Wolf's role in the movie is short in a way that feels darkly comedic yet apt, and I was surprised to learn this was, in fact, a cameo from musician Bad Bunny (listen, I'm old, ok?)
It's all breezy fun. The movie takes itself about as seriously as any movie that features a Japanese-language cover of "Holding Out For A Hero" in a moment of high drama, but that's fine, the movie expects you to chuckle along, knowing full well it has your heart in a vise by the third cover of "I'm forever blowing bubbles." Not a joke by the way, the few moments that Bullet Train allows itself to express emotion more complex than "holy shit" and/or laughter, it's acted well enough and with enough genuine skill that it actually gets to me a fair bit.
It'd be an act of overstatement to call Bullet Train all that deep, but it adds up to more than the sum of its parts. It ends up saying some fun things about fate. I wouldn't exactly cite it in a philosophy paper or anything of the sort, it is fun to sit at the end of the "Michael Shannon plays Russian roulette in an oni mask to look badass" movie and go "You're right movie, maybe human misery DOES come from the hubris of believing ourselves to be masters over fate." I don't know, it's just nice for a crowd-pleasing action movie to go out on a note of what seems like a genuinely held belief and not "welp that happened" glibness. It reminds me a bit of Mr. and Mrs. Smith like that, a movie I'll probably end up talking about here one of these days.
do you think tangerine would be like secretly ticklish because i think if he was and someone ahem. ladybug buzzed him on the sides from behind he’d just whip round and fucking crack him square on the nose
do you think tangerine would be like secretly ticklish because i think if he was and someone ahem. ladybug buzzed him on the sides from behind he’d just whip round and fucking crack him square on the nose
