Statham is sat alone on a barstool. He's drinking like he means it. And then a woman walks in. She orders a Diet Pepsi. Takes a seat in a booth.
Statham lurches over.
Okay. We don't know who he is, but he's played by Jason Statham. He's unlikely to be a barfly, a creep, or a drunk. Plus, he's clean-looking. His body may be saying that he's had one for each of several roads, but his voice - the accent is Statham's own, by the way - betrays no slurring.
Let's assume this is a sting. A set-up of some sort.
She's waiting for her boyfriend. Statham persists; asks for a dance. No.
A long slow take. The movie's measuredness is mesmerising.
At least tell me your name. Didi. A neat character moment; her grandmother was once a Doris Day fan club manager.
Statham carries on. He's getting nowhere. Tries the jukebox.
This is good. Outside; a car pulls up but doesn't park in line with the couple of other vehicles there. Subtext; the driver's a dick. A guy gets out, enters the bar from the parking lot entrance.
The guy comes in. Now we get a look at him. Some mook in a suit. Little self-important fella. He's older than she is. Maybe forty to her twenties. Flash yet uptight against her curves and hint of sexy-but-not-for-you.
An aside in the booth. He's juiced in a minor way. Has a shot at promotion, but it's in Atlantic City. Will Didi come with him or not?
She likes him, but.
Statham fancies his chances. Squares up to the john. Acts the asshole. They leave.
Outside. The guy's carrying out his throughline. He should have battered the creep.
Statham comes out. Body-drunk but voice still solid and Cockney. By now, we're in on the con, surely. But let's see it play out.
The guy's wearing a hairpiece. Of course he does. And it gets ripped off, naturally.
The guy and Statham fight.
And fight.
Eventually, Statham yields.
The guy and the girl embrace. She's won over. Her Knight Valiant has seen off the aggressor, who's limped away. Yes, she'll come with him to Atlantic City.
Credits. The wider Vegas. Christmas, intercut with Statham. He's drinking. A match burns. Eventually, it drops into an ashtray with many others. He's danced this dance before.
Some notes on the credits. Character actors: Jason Alexander, Anne Heche, Vilo Ventimiglia, Hope Davis, Stanley fucking Tucci. Fight coordinator; Corey Yuen. This promises much, and certainly not the flailing we've seen in the parking lot.
A script by William Goldman. Wild Card is a remake of Heat, filmed under that name from Goldman's original novel in the 80s. No, not the Michael Mann / Al Pacino / Robert de Niro Heat. The first movie starred Burt Reynolds at the end of his theatrical release career. The scripts are nigh-identical, if I remember right.
That's William - Butch Cassidy / The Hot Rock / Waldo Pepper / Misery / Marathon Man / Magic / The Stepford Wives / The Princess Bride and many others - Goldman. One of the greatest Hollywood screenwriters, and a fine novelist too. The kind of Tinseltown royalty we don't often get associated with straightforward action stars.
And the film's directed by Simon West. A bonafide cheesy action classic in Con-Air under his belt first time out in 1997, West's career has been a little spotty since, but there's some reliable stuff there, including some other Statham releases (The Mechanic, The Expendables 2) that we'll get to in good time.
We're almost fifteen minutes in, and so far there's little hint of a story, except that maybe things aren't as they seem, and - just - maybe that Statham's character (whatever his name is) has trouble on his mind. But there's no rush. This is perfectly entertaining, and leisurely to boot. Let's have this one play out.
[hiatus]
A slight interregnum, not least because I fancy reading the source novel, so I'm waiting for a copy to be delivered. Amazon being what it is these days, it'll be here in a trice. I'm not sure what it'll bring to the party, but as it is a party after all, the unexpected is to be welcomed. And, yep, I've sourced a copy of the Burt Reynolds movie too.
Perhaps weirdly, the 1980s movie version of Heat doesn't seem to have made it to DVD, though VHS copies are still available, but I've got an Italian DVD copy - under the title Black Jack - on its way to me. The cover alleges that both an English-language and Italian dubbed version are on the disc, so we'll have to wait and see.
In the meantime, here's my capsule review, over at 255review.com
[post to be continued]
And back again, a few days later. My Italian DVD has arrived. In glorious 4:3 pan-and-scan and with a cover that sells a) Burt, b) Vegas, c) some ruffty-tuffty fisticuffs action in the bottom left-hand corner; Black Jack / Heat promises much.
I'll give it a watch and get back to you, then we can discuss the Statham version in conjunction with both the original movie and the Goldman novel on which the film was based. In the meantime, here's the DVD in all its splendour:
Majestic, isn't it?
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