**1/2 (out of ****)
Starring Mark Wahlberg, Lou Diamond Philips, Christina Applegate, Richard Avery, Antonio Sabato Jr., and Bokeem Woodbine.
Directed by Che-Kirk Kwon
1998 R
By all theoretical logic, this should be a bad movie—and, in a way, it is. One could argue that it is artistically bankrupt and doesn’t have a thought in its head. And they would probably be right. But, God help me, I had fun watching it.
The plot of “The Big Hit” doesn’t even begin to describe its personality, but here goes: in search of extra cash, four hit men kidnap the daughter of a wealthy businessman only to discover that she is the goddaughter of their crime boss, leading one of the hit men to turn against the others. This is pretty standard stuff, until we meet the hit men, which is when we realize this is pretty silly stuff.
“The Big Hit” is best understood as a crossing of John Woo with Quentin Tarantino (see what I mean by artistically bankrupt?). Our four hit men aren’t exactly hardened criminals. They look and dress more like bubble gum rock stars and are even referred to as the “Spice Boys” by one of their would-be victims. I guess we’re supposed to find humor in assassins being such nice guys who lead normal lives with houses and fiancés and so forth, and they try to talk like they’re in “Pulp Fiction” (or maybe “Pulp Fiction Lite”). This isn’t as funny as the movie would hope it to be, but it’ll do.
Soloists in this concerto of goofiness are Mark Wahlberg and Lou Diamond Philips as the two lead assassins. Wahlberg’s big problem in life is that he wants to be nice to everyone. He lives with a fiancé he doesn’t love and can’t bring himself to hurt her by breaking off their engagement. He has a mistress whom he does not love and to whom he lends large sums of money, because he can’t bring himself to hurting her, either. He’s polite and gentle to the girl he and his partners kidnap and even becomes attracted to her. This is supposed to be funny, because he’s supposed to be a hardened killer, and to an extent it is funny. To an extent.
Wahlberg provides a comfortable protagonist who easily shifts gears between being a soft-spoken nice guy and a man who kills. At the opposite end of the spectrum is Lou Diamond Philips, as the killer who turns against his compatriots to save his own skin. His acting meter is set to overdrive. Imagine someone who refers to you as “G” and “homes”—now imagine that taken its insane, illogical extreme, and you have some idea of the goofiness of Philips’ performance. God help me I couldn’t stop laughing at this diabolical moron. Other featured players—also acting in overdrive, which makes Wahlberg appear that much more normal—include Richard Avery of “Deep Space Nine” as the crime boss perpetually smoldering behind a cigar and Bokeem Woodbine as the hit man who CAN’T STOP MASTURBATING.
The movie winds up being Wahlberg and the kidnapped girl—I’d name her but, really, she doesn’t need it—being chased by Philips and the other crooks. The action is lunatic even by Hollywood standards: by the ending credits Wahlberg has blown off the top stories of a skyscraper, risked death to return a late video rental, bungee-jumped from ten stories until his breath practically fogs the camera lens, faced down a car in which literally every window and skylight has someone with a gun leaning out of it, been vomited on by his potential father-in-law, and driven a car off a cliff only to have it caught on a tree branch. Oh yeah, and he shoots LOTS OF PEOPLE. Direction by Che-Kirk Kwon runs just shy of crazed urgency, with plenty of edits, explosions, dopey one-liners, constant drum beats in the background, and not a lot of time to think. This style of directing may sink films like “The Rock” and “Armaggedon,” but “The Big Hit” redeems itself by being so willfully, shamelessly silly.
Thinking seriously about “The Big Hit” might make it offensive. You may reach conclusions like “hey, hit men aren’t cute, they’re murderers!” So try not to take it too seriously. I enjoyed “The Big Hit” on its chosen, absurd level, and walked out of the theatre with a big grin, thinking thoughts like “wow, that was stupid!” God help me.
Copyright 2002 Friday & Saturday Night