This sequel did not creep up kindly--it hit you like lightning in the stomach. I walked out of the theater with the impression that I had received a shrug that had turned into a gut-check. The film grabs you as soon as Hutch Mansell, who has made his peace with domestic life, arrives at that lowbrow resort on what he promised himself would be a family vacation. It is wickedly delightful to see a man so frantic in his quest to quiet life once more pulled back into the fray and his vision of normalcy falling apart minute by minute.
The backdrop of the story, a kitchy, retro resort town, is
almost a character of its own. It reminds me of the neon-dipped pastel atmosphere of National Lampoon’s Vacation, except that it is filled with blood: the Hawaiian shirts wet with sweat and adrenaline, the screams of children replaced by the bam of knuckles hitting bone.
This contrast between brilliant, cheesy Americana and horrible violence is so weird and exciting in its own way--almost nostalgia that gets off-the-trails.
And the last one is Hutch: Bob Odenkirk delivers it with such a sense of lived-in weariness, silent anger, and unspoken remorse that you nearly forget you are watching an action star. He is not an invulnerable hero--he is a tired-out dad with a pair of sun glasses who loses his temper when his children are put in danger. That moment feels personal.
The humor? Sharp as a broken blade. That scene when Hutch is screaming, saying that he is on vacation and is hitting goons that is ridiculous, my drink nearly blasted through my nose.
The reason why the line works is that it contrasts every bit of the madness with his desperate human need to get a break.
Sharon Stone as the villain: she is too cool to be believed, and she is delighted by being unhinged. As she stalks and teases you can not help but lean forward as you watch her. It is as though you are watching a crimson-heeled tightrope walker: you do not know whether she will tumble down, but you cannot help but be enthralled.
This is not a film about who wins the fight, but the film is about what is at stake. It wavers on the edge of either being outrageously funny or emotionally touching. Violence of unbelievable scale is juxtaposed with these glimpses of contact--the painful half-smile with which Hutch gazes upon his family, the instinctive way he returns to his instincts to protect them. It is absurd in the most noble sense: Fourth-wall-smashing kid gloves gone brutal.
It stays--because it must have been a reminder that we are always one minute to what we need the most... or what we fear the most. I did not simply feel that was fun after the credits. I said within myself, I should remember what I wanted peace so much.
So it is raw, it is darkly comedic, it is violent--but there is some tenderness hidden in there, also. Ask me to wonder: do you desire me to take you a moment as I walk you through my favorite fight scene, or the scene that left me laughing so hard I almost cried?
Thumbnail is designed by me on pixelLab and other images are screenshot from the movie