About The Killer and Footware

Post 1445:

Spoilers. If you’re interested in watching a two-hour film about a contract killer who flies on a lot of planes and drives in some cars and looks out windows and does pseudo-intellectual voiceovers and yoga, The Killer might be just the ticket.

I rarely get bored. But I’m not immune to the sensation. The Killer helped me remember the feeling, so I guess that’s a positive. I’ll assume that knocking people off professionally and not getting caught is tedious and takes creepy fastidiousness, but I didn’t need to sit through a movie that proves it.

There’s a couple of good scenes, tension-filled kinda stuff. David Fincher is a fantastic filmmaker and it looks cool. The thing is, you can tell a story with a threadbare plot, but there has to be some great character stuff. This didn’t really do either. The main character has very little personality and he doesn’t change or develop into anything.

It’s actually not a bad premise. A guy who always gets the job done botches a hit. Not being a forgiving line of work, now he’s the one in the crosshairs of folks that do the same gig. I thought it was going to take off. Not really. Pedestrian pacing.

Couple things. If you’re a super secret hitman, why do you have roomies? Seems like a bit of a liability for someone that has to be detached from society and live in the shadows. Also, I don’t believe a contract killer whose life is in danger would ever wear sandals. Like, ever. You gotta wake up every day ready for action, bro. Chasing or being chased in anything other than sporty trainers makes little to no sense. I guess James Bond probably wore wingtips, but come on. James Bond has to look like a baller.

I think I would rather watch a movie about an accountant doing accounting. Actually, there’s a movie called The Accountant that’s about a contract killer. That’s weird. I’m gonna go now and watch paint dry to spice up my day. Cheers and see you after.