If Quentin Tarantino and Martin McDonagh raised a child and brought it to Japan to watch a bunch of John Wick movies, it might act something like this. At one point in the glib mayhem of Bullet Train, an assassin holds a sword blade against Brad Pitt’s neck, ready to strike. Pitt, playing a thief/killer trying to find more balance in his life, inhales, pauses, and calmly mutters a self-help standard: “Hurt people hurt people.” His timing is perfect, and the line gets a guffaw from the audience, as does much of what Pitt says and does in this frenetic display of bloodletting. Pitt has reached a point where he can pop into scenes as part of an ensemble and not only carry portions of a pretty generic movie but also sprinkle pixie dust over the whole affair. Without him, this is a train wreck. With him, it’s actually kinda fun, if not memorable.
The characters, most of them contract killers of some sort, don’t quip while they fight — they fight while they quip. Blood gushes from eyes and mouths and jugular veins. Lethal weapons run the gamut from the usual guns, knives, and swords to more creative options — snake venom and a metal briefcase emblazoned with a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker. Most of this transpires on the title vehicle, speeding from Tokyo to Kyoto, and even though one of the best scenes takes place in the quiet car, the yakking is nonstop. This is one of those movies that assume hit men (and hit women) love the sound of their own voices and would probably rather spread the gift of gab than actually kill someone, though they find plenty of time to do both.
The killers on board include Pitt’s Ladybug, whose bad luck is legend; Lemon (Brian Tyree Henry) and Tangerine (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), who consider themselves brothers; Prince (Joey King), who has a little schoolgirl thing going; and The Wolf (Bad Bunny). Fortunately, there are also some Japanese people in this movie set in Japan and based on Kotaro Isaka’s novel Maria Beetle. Hiroyuki Sanada is The Elder, Andrew Koji is Kimura, and Nobuaki Shimamoto is Minegishi, all of whom are involved in a story about a child pushed from a roof and a plot to exact revenge.
Speaking of plot, it barely matters here. What brings this motley crew together? Don’t worry about it too much. That boy pushed from that roof now lies in a hospital where he may or may not survive. The aforementioned briefcase plays into this scenario, as do the strangers on a train. But when the movie’s obligatory plot vomit arrives as the climax approaches, you might as well go get some popcorn. Bullet Train is best appreciated as pure chatty, bloody spectacle.
Some of the performances are quite clever, if not exactly inspired. Henry, best known as the rapper Paper Boi in the surreal hip-hop comedy Atlanta, does something rare for an American actor: He pulls off an English accent. (Brits, meanwhile, can play Americans in their sleep.) His peroxide-blonde hair in tight curls, he performs with a sensitive swagger, especially in his quiet car battle with Pitt’s Ladybug. The best moments of Bullet Train are choreographed with the imagination and care of silent comedy, which had its own brand of physical mayhem. Henry’s Lemon is fanatical about Thomas the Tank Engine, a childlike touch that gives the character an innocent sheen. Meanwhile, the innocent facade of King’s Prince, combined with her killer’s instinct, is just kind of creepy and, after a while, boring.
Blasted with neon, quick when it doesn’t feel the need to bog down, Bullet Train cruises for most of its two-hour-plus running time, jumping from one bout of hand-to-hand combat to the next until the improbable mega-spectacle arrives at the end. (Hint: The movie is set on a fast-moving train.) If you’re looking for a tonal comparison, Bullet Train director David Leitch also made Deadpool 2 and Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw. Violence is funny by default in this world.
Pitt is somehow above it all, wearing a yellow fishing hat and glasses and seeming genuinely perplexed about why everyone is out to kill him. Sitting across from Lemon, Ladybug asks if his seatmate remembers him. Lemon’s response: “You look like every white homeless guy I’ve ever seen.” That Pitt can pull off this look speaks volumes about him. He remains one of those stars so blindingly handsome that we easily forget how good he is, and how funny. When he dresses down, he looks a little bit more like just a guy. But just a little. In Bullet Train, he does what movie stars do. He wraps himself in the movie and makes it his. All aboard.
Chris Vognar is a culture writer living in Houston.
