Warning! The following contains spoilers for the first episode of The Continental.
With John Wick, stuntmen turned directors Chad Stahelski and David Leitch created a film that celebrated stunt work while subverting many of the tropes that define western action cinema. In the franchise's first spinoff, The Continental: From the World of John Wick (review), Wick's world is broadened to the point of feeling thin, as balletic action is replaced with exposition, surreal otherworldly lighting is cast off for grim color grading, and the intimate fairytale inspired-world of assassins is snuffed out to become just another dreary New York-set period piece.
In the three-episode "event-series" the action centers around the John Wick world's fanciful hotel of the title, which acts as neutral ground for the network of assassins who work under the watchful eye of the group known as the High Table. In the films, the Continental is owned and run by Winston (Ian McShane). Here, a younger iteration of Winston is played by Colin Woodell, who is enlisted by Mel Gibson's Cormac — the hotel manager in the '70s timeline — to find his brother Frankie (Ben Robson), who stole something important from the High Table. But in Winston's way is a series of assassins, morally compromised foes, and the grimy streets of NYC. Though in trying to tie the world so closely to the period where its set, the show struggles to engage with the fantastical otherworldliness and groundbreaking action that is key to the films.
John Wick's intricate gun-fu upended action in Hollywood, and we do get glimpses of that here, especially in the opening moments of the first episode. But that great stunt work quickly gets drowned out in excessive bullets and bloody headshots. It's important to note that, yes, the original John Wick movies are excessively violent, but they're also beautifully brought to life and grounded with a human story: a man loses the last connection to his recently dead wife and absolutely loses his mind. Now, of course, in the world of Wick that means he kills hundreds of Russian mobsters, but series star Keanu Reeves sells that loss and makes you root for him. Plus, Stahelski and Leitch’s inventive direction on that first film means that the frenetic and pulsing journey that you're on never lets up as you follow Wick on his quest for revenge.
The Continental struggles to hone in on the human at its center — largely because it introduces about 10 major players in the first episode alone — or showcase enough well-choreographed violence. Instead it often feels like the show thinks what made John Wick work was the amount of bullets he shot. That conflation of mindless violence with excitement means that scenes that are obviously meant to entertain or have emotional impact instead ring false. And it doesn't help that the character at its center struggles to convince us that we should care about him or his quest. In fact it takes the entire run time of the first feature-length premiere to give him his "John Wick" moment, a.k.a. the loss that will drive him through the final two episodes. Despite the fact that in this case it's a human rather than a dog, the impact is far less. We don't know enough about the person to care and it once again places The Continental in a more stereotypical action framework; many action stars have killed for a family member, very few kill for their dog.
Though The Continental desperately wants to prove the world of John Wick can exist without Reeves — and there are glimmers to keep that hope alive in the three-episode event series — it ignores that the franchise's success is intrinsically connected to that genius casting. Wick represented a renaissance and recontextualization of Reeves' career. It sparked conversations about his history as an action star and martial artist as well as his underrated directorial debut, Man of Tai Chi, which showcased his love and understanding of martial arts cinema. Stalheski had a direct connection with Reeves as he'd been his stunt double on the groundbreaking wire-work extravaganza The Matrix. Then there's the fact that Reeves' kind and empathetic reputation as a performer and person added an unspoken context to his brutal character, and the film built on his strengths to craft what became the role of a lifetime for him.
It feels extremely strange then, with the impact the creators know casting can have on the world of John Wick, that the big name star here is Mel Gibson. When Lionsgate announced that they'd be delving deeper into the lore of John Wick in a prequel spinoff series, fans were ecstatic. In 2021 it was announced that Mel Gibson would play one of the show's leads, inspiring many to wonder why the producers thought that the controversial actor with a history of anti-semitism, racism, alleged domestic violence, homophobia, and virulent caught-on-tape misogyny would be a good addition to the series. After watching the first episode, it’s pretty clear he is not. But the creators of the Peacock event-series believe otherwise.
Speaking to Techradar, one of the show's two directors, Albert Hughes — who also executive-produced The Continental — said of the casting: "We hired him because we thought he was the best person for the job." He followed that statement up with "this show is bigger than any one character or actor." The latter is undoubtedly true, as the premiere has a sprawling cast of central performers. Jessica Allain's dojo-owning badass Lou, who fights her way out of a business deal gone wrong, is instantly more engaging than Cormac — or honestly Winston. Same goes for the brilliantly dangerous Yen (Nhung Kate), Winston's sister-in-law. In a series where they exist there was surely a much more interesting version of Cormac or a different manager of the Continental rather than the stereotypical blustering blandness we get from Gibson in the role. But his casting is far from the only place that the show misses the mark.
One of the things that enchanted John Wick viewers — especially in later films — was the baroque, folkloric world of its assassins who live under the surface of New York City, trading in giant gold coins, cryptic clues, and immense bounties. It was surely that surreal landscape which inspired the creation of this very series too. Alas, that fable-inspired magical realism is utterly lost in The Continental, which not only dispenses with any of Wick's philosophical or emotional drive, but also puts the assassins in a New York so real and normal — and including a main character who's a cop, something that goes against the interior rules and logic the films established — that it ends up feeling like any other gritty "New York Crime" series on Peacock. Trying to ground John Wick in the real world misses the point, not only because it lessens the impact of its otherworldly universe, but also because it immediately encourages viewers to draw real-world comparisons, which in a show with so much gun violence is a questionable choice.
Perhaps that is why The Continental feels like such a missed opportunity. Though we knew John Wick would likely never appear, in a way it felt like that would give the show even more freedom to explore the strangeness of the fairytale hotel at its center. After all, without Wick we could focus on the ins and outs of the world of assassins in all their hyper-stylized glory. So the choice to instead center the show on grounding the hotel and the world in our universe feels like a disappointment. There are barely any of the lush, over-styled parties, few memorable assassins, and instead we get the addition of characters that literally unravel the lore of the world. Mishel Prada's KD, an NYPD cop who gets entangled in the world of The Continental, explodes our suspension of disbelief. Introducing real-world careers and crime fighters instantly makes us ask so many questions that begin to break the internal logic and therefore our enjoyment of the series. Sometimes the magic of movies comes from what we don't know and aren't shown. In trying to over-explain John Wick's world, The Continental dulls a little of the bizarre elements that have made John Wick such a global success.
While the world of the Continental hotel and the lore of John Wick feel ripe for exploration, the premiere episode of the series hoping to do just that plays it too safe. Instead of expanding and elevating the universe, it weighs it down with too much of our own depressing world and overwrought exposition, explanation, and hand-holding that leaves viewers dreaming of the lush lighting, neon-hued clubs, and bewitching lore of Chad Stalheski's groundbreaking original.
