Way of the Gun, The (2000)

reviewed by
Scott Renshaw


THE WAY OF THE GUN (Artisan) Starring: Ryan Phillippe, Benicio Del Toro, Juliette Lewis, Taye Diggs, Nicky Katt, Scott Wilson, James Caan, Dylan Kussman, Kristin Lehman. Screenplay: Christopher McQuarrie. Producer: Kenneth Kokin. Director: Christopher McQuarrie. MPAA Rating: R (violence, profanity, adult themes) Running Time: 119 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.

THE WAY OF THE GUN -- the directing debut by Oscar-winning screenwriter Christopher McQuarrie (THE USUAL SUSPECTS) -- opens the way you always hope a film will open: with so much energy and potential that the whole theater seems electrified. In that opening, a pair of career criminals identified simply as "Parker" (Ryan Phillippe) and "Longbaugh" (Benicio Del Toro) perch on the hood of a car in a nightclub parking lot, drawing the ire of the car's owner and his loud-mouthed female companion. The scene is violent, profane, surprising and hilarious. As a tone-setter, it's marvelous; as a stand-alone piece of writing and directing, it's hella-fun.

Filled with individual moments of loopy creativity, genuinely unsettling violence and wicked dialogue, THE WAY OF THE GUN should have been one of the best films of the year (though in a painfully lackluster 2000, it still has a shot at that dubious honor). The only reason it's not is a fundamental narrative miscalculation on McQuarrie's part: There's no good reason for Parker and Longbaugh to be the film's ostensible protagonists. The story follows the pair as they launch their latest scheme, which involves kidnapping a nine-month-pregnant surrogate mother named Robin (Juliette Lewis). They know the baby's biological parents are paying Robin $1 million for the child, so they know there's money to be had. What they don't know is that the father, Hale Chidduck (Scott Wilson), launders money for organized crime. They also don't know that Chidduck can call on associates like Joe Sarno (James Caan), who has a knack for dealing with problems like Parker and Longbaugh.

For at least the first half-hour, THE WAY OF THE GUN is so skillfully rendered that it seems destined for glory. From Parker and Longbaugh's torment of a clerk at a sperm bank, to the unconventional staging of the kidnapping itself, to the splendid slow-speed chase that follows, McQuarrie twists the crime caper genre 90 degrees at virtually every opportunity. Even playing the Tarantino comparison card doesn't entirely do justice to McQuarrie's ability to throw a wrench into expectations. The connections between the characters become evident only after a bit of reflection; there's no guarantee that bad-asses still won't get their bad asses kicked, or that those who appear likely to take the most punishment might not end up dishing it out. It's almost never exactly what you expect it to be.

And, in at least one case, that's not exactly a compliment. As THE WAY OF THE GUN unfolds, it gradually becomes evident that the true protagonist of the story is not Parker and Longbaugh. That distinction goes to Caan's Sarno, a veteran tough guy with his own priorities in the whole kidnapping episode. While a flurry of sub-plots spin through the film -- attempts by Chidduck's two chief bodyguards (Taye Diggs and Nicky Katt) to double-cross their boss; the manipulations of Chidduck's young wife (Kristin Lehman); the obstetrician (Dylan Kussman) with a tragic past -- it's ultimately Sarno's story. McQuarrie, however, never seems aware of that fact. He lingers on Parker and Longbaugh as though they were the modern-day Butch and Sundance suggested by their names, despite the fact that we're almost never allowed inside the criminals' heads. Telling the story largely from their perspective isn't a celebration of the anti-hero; it's a narrative blunder.

Is that blunder enough to throw THE WAY OF THE GUN entirely off course? Fortunately not. The climax at a Mexican brothel showcases both a nerve-wracking episode of impromptu surgery and a good old-fashioned shoot-out (with a couple of new-fashioned variations). McQuarrie's compositions are unusually rich for a writer-turned-director -- watch for Mrs. Chidduck appearing in the background and at the edge of the frame -- yet he still ends on a kicker of a line of dialogue. The only thing missing from THE WAY OF THE GUN is soul, the soul that would have been provided by Sarno as its center. It's a good film that's a 90 degree twist away from greatness -- the one 90 degree twist McQuarrie didn't take.

     On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 unusual suspects:  7.

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