There’s a moment in the first episode of The Continental where a character says they need ”guns… lots of guns.” You may recall Keanu Reeves uttering that line in John Wick: Chapter 3 – or making the same request in the first Matrix. It’s just one of many callbacks to Reeves’ filmography sprinkled throughout the John Wick franchise. The Continental’s co-opting of that line for another character as if it’s a “be seeing you”-level Wickism original to the franchise speaks to the level of confidence the Peacock spinoff seems to have in itself.
The Continental lives in the shadow of the Baba Yaga, but it didn’t have to be this way. Since the success of the first film, the world of those under the High Table has progressed and evolved into a cinematic universe with a complex mythology interesting enough to sustain itself with or without Reeves. That may not be how most feel, and it’ll be hard to convince them otherwise after this three-night event series, which explores how Winston Scott – John Wick’s chief ally, played by Ian McShane on the big screen and Colin Woodell in The Continental – came to be the proprietor of the #1 assassin hotel in New York City. It has the veneer of the John Wick movies and occasionally provides interesting historical context for Winston’s role in Wick’s eventual crusade, but you’ve got to sledgehammer through a lot of concrete to get to those few gold coins.
In a trio of feature-length episodes, The Continental turns back the clock to delve into the relationship between Winston and his estranged brother Frankie (Ben Robson), and the way their lives have been corrupted by the Continental’s circa 1970s manager, Cormac O’Connor (Mel Gibson). Cormac’s coarse demeanor, awful puns, and explosive rage position him as present-day Winston’s exact opposite and indicative of the institutional change he’ll bring to their world of murder, gun-running, and general ne’er-do-wellery. Cormac’s “anti-Winston” persona is just one of many, many analogs to John Wick characters and paradigms that The Continental uses to shortcut worldbuilding on its own terms. If you liked Ruby Rose’s mute enforcer in Chapter 2, congratulations, there are now two mute assassins – and they have funny haircuts! If you liked Laurence Fishburne’s Bowery King, now there’s a Bowery Queen! You loved Chapter 3’s steely Adjudicator? Great! Here’s one with a porcelain mask and a kilt-wearing bodyguard. With this borderline lazy approach to evoking the films, the show starts to feel like John Wick for people who aren’t wearing their glasses.
The Continental significantly miscalculates the scope it needs to tell its David and Goliath story. Even four movies deep, the John Wick films keep most of the action tied to John’s perspective, making room for occasional check-ins with Winston or the villains’ camps to keep the plot moving. The Continental features no less than five focal point characters, which the narrative bounces between with the intention of deepening the bench of those with grievances against the erratic Cormac and providing Winston a crack squad to take him down. But few of these satellite storylines feel truly important or emotionally resonant. Siblings Miles (Hubert Point-Du Jour) and Lou Burton (Jessica Allain) may be dealing with some big trouble in Chinatown from extortive gangsters, but with little relationship to the world of the High Table, their inclusion feels focused on giving the show an excuse to stage disco-soundtracked karate fights. The police investigation into Frankie’s activities from Detective KD Silva (Mishel Prada) brings things to a screeching halt any time we cut away to it, which is confoundingly often. Silva’s zeal for her hunt – and the rules she’ll break to pursue it – feels incredibly insignificant in the face of the High Table influence she’s up against, and the resolution to her storyline doesn’t land at all. There’s a lack of cohesion to how these disparate storylines progress the overall story, with the cause and effect of choices (a Wickiverse staple) becoming less and less important, especially going into the extremely shaky third episode.
Woodell’s performance is a high-point, evocative of McShane’s self-assured polish without feeling too much like an imitation. Woodell excels in scenes where Winston has to convince allies to join his cause, or use subterfuge to hide his motives. Ayomide Adegun’s Charon evokes the late, great Lance Reddick’s stalwart concierge with equal success, perfectly capturing Reddick’s sensitivity with a healthy dose of naivete that make him easy to root for as he decides what he wants his future to look like. Of course, The Continental establishes how these characters come to know and respect each other, but it’s a relationship given less emphasis than you’d anticipate, and other characters who take up that screen time are far less compelling.
Frankie works for Cormac and, with his long hair, tattoos, tactical reloads, and creativity in hand-to-hand combat, he’s very, very clearly the stand-in for John Wick. Robson acquits himself well in his action scenes – which are among The Continental’s’ best – but the focus on Winston means Frankie falls by the wayside quickly. His wife Yen (Nhung Kate), a former fighter for the Khmer Rouge in the Vietnam War, doesn’t fare much better, although her perspective on that conflict provides some of the only weighty thematic discussions in The Continental. One monologue from Point-Du Jour aside – which is the strongest dramatic moment across all three episodes – the effects of the war on the supporting cast are hinted at, but aren’t folded into character arcs in any meaningful way and ultimately feel intent on demarcating the period setting.
The production design is pretty great and deserves credit for successfully evoking the world of the first John Wick film in particular. A grimy, ground-level view of New York City in the throes of post-Vietnam malaise contrasts well with the sumptuous interiors of The Continental, which is well-represented here. Those hoping for John Wick-quality action, though, will be disappointed: There are flashes of the violent creativity Chad Stahelski and Reeves have perfected, but by and large, there’s nothing exceptional in the hand-to-hand combat that breaks out every 15 or 20 minutes. One sloppy car chase is pieced together with cuts to black that aren’t in the visual vocabulary of the films or the rest of the show. It feels aimed at salvaging something that didn’t work on set, but was necessary to get characters from A to B.
In the end, The Continental’s greatest success may be what it could open the doors for should curious audiences demand more. While there are no threads interesting enough here to merit a direct followup, the way in which The Continental manages to feel part and parcel with the world of John Wick invites further exploration of the hotel’s history – and that of its many international counterparts.
