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I've got to tip my hat to Reeves. The actor, who turned 50 last month, has evidently applied himself to choreography with the discipline (if not necessarily the inherent ease) of a Jackie Chan or a Gene Kelly. He also acknowledges his limitations as a performer and constructs his screen presence accordingly. Rather than appeal to audience sympathy, Reeves plays up his blankness to tantalizing effect. Wick seems to be evaporating from sight whenever he isn't fighting someone—as such, when the action scenes begin, they give the film a genuine surge of energy. Another striking thing about the movie is that, despite being a revenge thriller, it doesn't go out of its way to appeal to vigilante fantasies. The plot is so elemental and the hero so hollow that one identifies most strongly with the stunt coordinators, whose brilliant work—satisfying entirely on its own terms—pushes John Wick surprisingly close to the realm of pure cinema.