KNIVES OUT [Film Review]

Utterly predictable in parts, yet oh so deliciously entertaining. In fact, this film is beyond wickedly engaging, so much so that one can almost forgive writer/director Rian Johnson for only sparingly releasing the red herrings instead of tossing out a whole bucket. I lieu of fake fish, Johnson’s modus operandi is to wow the audience with serious bouts of intricate dialogue, lottsa warped humor, and a protagonist who is akin to Columbo, that is if he had been less schlubby and disheveled and more aloof Southern beau.
First things first. This is a murder mystery. And guess what? I picked out the culprit within the initial moments of the first act. That said, I must admit when the reveal came at the end of the film I was immediately disappointed because my guess had been correct and I felt momentarily cheated. I mean how could the villain have been so freaking obvious? But that feeling was fleeting. It was quickly replaced with one of vindication: I had solved the case! Okay, perhaps I didn’t guess all the particulars that our intrepid gumshoe Benoit Blanc--James Bond hisownself, Daniel Craig, judiciously playing up his hidden droll side--mapped out, but I had been right in surmising who had committed the crime.
The reveal isn’t the icing on the cake, though, as Johnson’s finale is littered with killer callbacks galore. While the next-to-penultimate callback is also predictable, it’s no less satisfying when it’s revealed, thus allowing you to revel in your super sleuthdom (provided you figured it out, that is!). Ditto for the penultimate callback, which was clever, but also foreseeable a mile away. Yet the final callback was sublimely subtle. For those who like to solve puzzles, let’s just say that Johnson heavily favors foreshadowing; so keep your eyes and ears peeled, my friends!
While not possessing nearly enough twists and turns for my taste (but the ones that it does deliver are swell), the film succeeds by giving the audience everything they could possibly need to solve the case on their own, both in terms of visual and audible cues. Yet it’s the latter that Johnson uses to great effect to divert your attention. Hints are dropped with regularity, but they are mixed in with such flights of verbal fancy that its easy to get lost in the witty wordplay.
The sight gags are equally plentiful and hit with punch and verve. The rampant visual jokes range from a game of fetch with the guard dogs to a frumpy mink shrouded grandmother to a running gag involving projectile vomiting. They not only provide some deft humor, but additionally serve to draw your attention away from the more serious matters at hand.
In terms of the cast, I’m not gonna lie: at first I thought I would be distracted by the presence of both Captain America (Chris Evans) and 007 (Craig). Heck, the gentleman next to me loudly whispered to his companion “See, I told you that was Captain America” the first time Evans graced the screen. That both men were able to break free of their franchise shackles and create wholly different characters is a testament to their acting chops. The rest of the cast is equally up to the task. From Ana de Armas, a bona fide chameleon of an actor (I have found her damn near unrecognizable in every film I’ve seen her in), who deceptively plays her role like a mouse caught in a Landcruiser’s high beams to the “comeback kid” Don Johnson (his recent string of low-key roles in off-kilter films like this has been stellar). Christopher Plummer serves up a rich and captivating performance as the domineering patriarch of the film. A few folks, though, were underutilized: Lakeith Stanfield, while all deadpan grace, could have been used to better effect. Ditto for Jaeden Lieberher and Michael Shannon. And Laurie Strode, erm Jamie Lee Curtis, seems like A-list window dressing. Then again that’s always the problem with a large ensemble cast; some folks get more screen time than others. In the end, even those who could (and should) have had more frames to their name deliver memorable performances.
But when all is said and done the real star here is the dialogue, which is snappier than the wet towel that douche-bag of a bully used to crack on your bare ass in the showers after gym class. You’re gonna have to stay on your toes to catch every morsel uttered by the stellar cast.
So, yeah, if you’ve watched your share of Murder, She Wrote or read enough Christie and Queen there’s a good chance you may potentially see the final reveal coming from afar. But the journey to the confession of the killer is a rambunctiously good one . Then again, on the off-chance that you might not see any of it coming, not only the journey will be memorable, but also the arrival at the final destination will be exciting and illuminating to say the least.

Rating: 4 (out of 5)
RIYL: Drag Me To Hell; Clue; Sleuth (the original with Michael Caine and Laurence Olivier); Mousetrap