★ ★ ½ ☆ ☆
At the time of writing this review it’s been three days
since I saw Triple 9 and without the
IMDB synopsis, the story would have all but slipped from my brain, which rather
puts a dampener on a film with so much promise. Who could have predicted that
John Hillcoat, director of The Road, could
lead a diverse cast including Chiwetel Ejiofor, Anthony Mackie, Kate Winslet,
Casey Affleck and Gal Gadot to such a flat-footed result?
The setup promoted by the punchy trailer seems simple
enough: a group of corrupt cops and criminal associates need to complete one
last job for a Russian crime lord (Kate Winslet). In order to clear the heist zone
of police, they initiate a triple 9 – the death of a police officer that will
draw the authorities away from the prize. But nothing is ever without
complications, and restless Sergeant Allen (Woody Harrelson) recruits
idealistic Chris (Casey Affleck) to confirm his suspicions of approaching threat.
All the individual elements that intimate new ideas seem to
have sparked from someone on the production team saying “wouldn’t it be cool if…”
rather than pooling ideas on what best serves the story. Take, for instance, Harrelson’s
stars 'n’ stripes tie: a comment on the law restrained by state, perhaps? Or
what of the explosion of red dye accompanying the introductory bank job: a
likely problem during a getaway? In answer to both, no. They’re eye-catching
tics with minimal substance.
While any glimmers of originality are superficial at best,
the remaining plot elements are visibly pinched from a plethora of
distinguished crime thrillers: we get a mounting body count in the final
stretch akin to The Departed,
Mackie’s character gets a reversion of the criminal/cop guilt-trip from Point Break (though sadly bereft of the gun-toting
moment Hot Fuzz parodied so well),
and a roadside shootout of the Heat variety
ensues with ear-bursting peal.
Michael Mann’s 1995 film is a clear influence throughout,
not least the interpretation of the city as a secondary character: the various
creatures of the night take second billing to forsaken back alleys and grubby
car parks, whilst a frothy electronic score bubbles beneath the surface.
A fidgety approach to character development throughout means
we’re never quite sure who to root for. Not due to any discreet suggestion of
moral ambiguity, but simply because the best we get of any character is a mere thumbnail
before leaping across town to the next. Affleck gets the most to work with as
the clueless man of principle, but we’re left pining for more from Mackie’s
corrupt cop or Winslet’s fabulous Irina. Seriously, why bother casting Kate
Winslet as a cold-hearted Russian Mafioso if the best we get of her is a two-minute
snapshot? And all the while, the usually incomparable Ejiofor is lost amongst
the gravel.
The conclusion packs a bloody punch and brings sufficient
resolution, but highlights the contrast with the ill-disciplined opening salvo.
Triple 9 has so much potential on a
piece-by-piece level that it’s impossible not to find some attraction, but the
final model is clumsily constructed and wonkily mounted. For all the brute
force in its gunplay, it barely leaves an exit wound.
