Alright, strap in, kiddos, because Gramps here just endured “The Way of the Gun,” a cinematic rollercoaster that left me questioning whether I accidentally stumbled into an alternate universe where coherence is an endangered species.
Let’s start with the plot, or lack thereof. I haven’t seen a story this tangled since I tried to unravel my wife’s spaghetti-like knitting project. Two knuckleheads decide to kidnap someone, and from there, it’s like a Choose Your Own Adventure book where every page leads to confusion. Seriously, did the screenwriter have a vendetta against logical storytelling?
It actually opens with a just insane out of nowhere scene featuring a very young and very nasty Sarah Silverman who is credited on Imdb as Raving Bitch. That is fitting I guess and the frenetic energy doesn’t stop there.
Our dynamic duo, played by Ryan Phillippe and Benicio Del Toro, are about as relatable as a pair of aliens trying to understand human emotions. These guys act like they’re auditioning for a role in an existential crisis support group. Hey fellas, I came here for a movie, not a therapy session!
And the dialogue? It’s like the characters took a crash course in obscure metaphors and decided to speak exclusively in riddles. I haven’t heard this many convoluted exchanges since I tried eavesdropping on my teenage grandkids’ conversations. Seriously, is speaking in plain English too mainstream these days?
Now, let’s talk about the action scenes. I haven’t seen so many bullets flying since the last time I accidentally stepped into a paintball arena. The shootouts are so over-the-top, it’s like the director got his inspiration from a hyperactive kid playing with action figures on a sugar high. Realism takes a back seat, and it’s a wild, bullet-ridden joyride. It’s some of the dumbest shootouts I have ever seen as they literally use louvered shutters to protect from bullets… not a lot of thought went into the realism of these gunfight scenes except for one thing.
This movie has the best death scene ever. Tyree knows how to die and should have gotten an Oscar just for his death scene.
The supporting cast, featuring the likes of the aforementioned hiding behind the shutters James Caan, adds a touch of class to this chaotic carnival. But even their talents can’t salvage a plot that’s more twisted than a politician’s promises during an election year.
As for the soundtrack, it’s a cacophony of noise that would make a heavy metal concert sound like a lullaby. Maybe the filmmakers thought they could distract us from the lack of coherence with ear-splitting beats. Nice try, but I’m not easily fooled, you whipper-snappers!
In conclusion, “The Way of the Gun” is like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded—it’s confusing, frustrating, and leaves you wondering why you even bothered. If you’re into movies that make you scratch your head and question the meaning of life, give it a go. As for me, I’ll stick to films that don’t require a degree in quantum physics to understand. Now, where did I put my reading glasses? I need to recover from this cinematic mind-bender.