Polar: Jonas Åkerlund | Review


Published on Jan 26, 2019


That there exists the cinema, and forced – populated with stereotypes pulled a shiny and typically aimed at the action – it is a fact, as a matter of fact, if supported by a clear idea (and maybe is even well implemented), also the cinema and forced knows how to be as beautiful as it is fun.

Another fact is that Polar, new films on Netflix directed by Jonas Åkerlund, is to be one hundred percent cinema, forced, but unfortunately does not know to be neither beautiful nor funny, to the opposite side of the masterpieces of recent proposed by the company's on-demand streaming as Rome, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and The Other Face of the Wind, the Mads Mikkelsen version of Solid Snake tries to tread its noir atmosphere above the scaffold comics on which it is based (the screenplay is taken from the homonymous graphic novel by Victor Santos), but the marriage fails and its fruit is a thick soup of clichés that even has the arrogance to take seriously, when instead he could get the results are very different emphasizing the spirit of the grotesque. If you are looking for a work that can not make fun of the gratuitous violence and looting its (numerous) sex scenes from any tinge of eroticism, you are in the right place.

The killer Duncan Vizla (Mikkelsen) is a deadly assassin and he managed to arrive two weeks from his fifty years, and then is on the threshold of the long-awaited withdrawal from the scene. To Blut (Matt Lucas), his employer, this early retirement, however, is not to be so down, and would prefer to pay someone to remove him from their midst rather than grant Vizla the substantial reward agreed: so he put heels to his former best man five young killer, that will cross America in a journey of blood and violence.

He took refuge in a cabin in Montana, Vizla know Camille (Vanessa Hudges), a close to his time recovering from emotional trauma. Will our hero to begin the new life that you so want? You'll have to get to the end of the film to find out, even if what you meet along the way will push you several times to desist.

Polar seems to have never heard of the proverb that says that too much is too much, and his director, to end virtually every sequence – apart from the ones of intimacy between Vizla and Camille – a murder, a grotesque, a head explodes, a torture, an act of violence. And irritating the excessive number of characters introduced only to be able to kill at the end of the scene, a formula repeated constantly that, in addition to shout to the predictability, reports of big limits of inventiveness and, above all, lowering gradually the threshold of boredom.

Every choice visual has already been seen somewhere else, every joke has already been recited, every single idea seems to be the result of something else or someone else and not of the crew who made the film. More sad than anything else – if it can be something more sad, sex-stereotyped to the point of losing any degree of excitement – is the willingness with which the film tries to show off, pretending to continuous for what is not: the original.

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