‘Polar’ Wants To Be ‘John Wick’ But Is The Movie Equivalent Of Mountain Dew & Cheetos [Review]

Craving stylish action? If “John Wick” is a meaty steak, full of flavor that more than satisfies hunger pangs and “Crank” is cotton candy, sweet, tasty, but not very substantial, then Netflix‘s new action-thriller, “Polar,” directed by Jonas Åkerlund (“Spun“) and heavily indebted to both films, is what happens when you take a steak, cotton candy, and a healthy dose of your nearest narcotic and shove it all into a blender. That is to say, it’s not tolerable as even basic movie sustenance, or adventurous cuisine, and it’s a f*cking revolting mess.

Worse, the plot, such as there even is one, is paper thin, ridiculous and downright dumb. Mads Mikkelsen stars as “The Black Kaiser” aka Duncan whats-his-name (it doesn’t matter), a hitman that works for some sort of clandestine agency that performs assassinations (details are scarce). Just like you’d imagine is commonplace in these secret shady organizations, the agency Duncan works for has a strong benefits package, which actually includes a 401k-like plan where they match the earnings that the hit people allocate to their retirement fund (no, really). Perhaps taking a page from our mercenary administration with no ounce of loyalty to anyone who has put in the years, the major driving force of “Polar” is the agency’s attempt to murder a Duncan before he reaches age 50 and can cash out his 401k. Seriously. Take a minute and let that soak in.

For as boring as that plot sounds, this being a Jonas Åkerlund movie after all, “Polar” takes the premise and injects it with enough Mountain Dew and Cheetos to over-stimulate any 14-year-old boy. With overly saturated colors, the painfully gratuitous close-ups of female rear ends, and so, so much blood and gunfights, “Polar” takes what could be a dull, boring premise and attempts to make it the most exciting, fun ride you’ll find in all of 2019. But the application of, well, everything is just overwrought on every level, and “Polar” fails miserably.

Mikkelsen does his best John Wick impersonation, playing the grumpy, old assassin trying to live a quiet, peaceful life in Montana. But the problem is, “Polar” isn’t even “John Wick,” on its worst day, and while he plays the role completely straight, the rest of the cast is incongruously jacking the camp and ridiculousness up to 11. There’s Kathryn Winnick as Vivian, who is…someone. Her role in the proceedings isn’t made abundantly clear, but she chews up the scenery, with a new wig and outfit for every scene and even licks the rear of a stripper…just because that seems to be a cool thing to do, I guess. Attempting to interject some heart into the film, Vanessa Hudgens seems to exist just solely to add a revenge factor that is hardly earned and a twist ending that is patently stupid.

And let’s not forget the villains, led by Matt Lucas. The actor is attempting something baffling and of course, employing the subtly of all Åkerlund movies, and doing it at 320%. Ripped out of any James Bond film, his villain character is doused in Monster Energy drink élan and way, way too much lotion (you have to see the film to understand). His henchmen are a ragtag group of several disposable characters that are supposed to be diverse, interesting, and hilarious, but just come off as unmemorable and, ultimately, bullet fodder.

But even the misguided cast and performances are not what makes “Polar” an early contender for worst film of the year. Clearly, there’s a lot of “John Wick” in the film, but there’s almost more “Crank”-esque humor and violence than anything. Yet, with “Crank,” Jason Statham, along with writers-directors Neveldine/Taylor, knew exactly how to craft a joke that was borderline offensive but somehow fit the world. “Polar” attempts that level of humor but nothing lands; jokes about prostate exams, Jesus being hot, showing kids dead bodies, an overly obese man getting shot a hundred times in a trailer park are flat and banal.

Worse, a dumb gag about a dead dog–a silly meta-commentary about John Wick’s love of puppies—is less offensive and provocative as it hopes to be then pathetic and mentally challenged.

“Polar” doesn’t even work as a cheesy B-movie romp to laugh along with at ironic parties. What director Jonas Åkerlund and writer Jayson Rothwell have crafted is a juvenile, pedestrian, repetitive, and boring action film that tries to mix the “Crank” laughs with “John Wick” bad-assness and ends up as spectacularly terrible imitation that everyone involved should be embarrassed about.

If your idea of a fun time is a trashy action film with a 401k-filled plot and pitiable characters doing daft things, then “Polar” might be your thing, but it’s possible you might be wearing a read Make Action Great Again hat and have issues that stem far beyond rudimentary faithfulness to those who have spent their lives dutifully working for you. For the sane out there, just avoid the film at all costs and find an action film that will devotedly love you back. [F]