On Johnson, on Evans, on Liu, and on Simmon
Do you know what I expect out of a Dwayne Johnson led film? Very little. Do you know what I expect out of a Dwayne Johnson performance? Punching and scowling. Red One nailed my expectations right on the head. Conversely, I expect a lot out of Chris Evans and J.K. Simmons. My single Christmas wish for Red One was that the presence of Evans and Simmons would make Red One more than just a dumb action romp wrapped in tinsel and CGI polar bears. But I underestimated the black hole that is Johnson’s screen presence, sucking the fun out of most of the movie.
Before I get into the guts of this film, you should know my twelve-year-old son liked the movie. Heck, the twelve-year-old still trapped inside of me – the one that enjoys crap like Renfield and Uncharted – liked Red One. But that doesn’t mean it was good. Twelve-year-old boys like it because it has killer snowmen, a talking polar bear (Reinaldo Faberlle), a fire breathing horse, Johnson punching things, Evans being sarcastic, a hot witch (Kiernan Shipka), and a literal slap fight between Johnson and Krampus (Kristofer Hivju). But I rarely let my inner twelve-year-old write these reviews, and this isn’t one of those times.
On its surface, Red One is actually an okay movie. The plot is simple – Santa (Simmons) has been abducted by Gryla (Shipka) – who wants to siphon Santa’s power in order to imprison everyone on the naughty list – and Callum Drift (Johnson) and Jack O’Malley (Evans) must find and rescue Santa to save Christmas. Simple, right? The abduction scene itself is what we expect from this kind of movie. A car/snowmobile chase through the North Pole town.
The problems come with the subplots. Drift has lost faith in humanity because there are more naughty people than nice, so he is resigning as Santa’s head of security. This has no impact on anything, since he wasn’t officially resigned until after Christmas. And you get no points for predicting that his faith will be restored before the credits roll. There is also an organization called the Mythological Oversight and Restoration Authority (MORA) that is working with Drift to recover Santa. Led by director Zoe Harlow (Lucy Liu), MORA is as utterly pointless as Drift’s crisis of conscience. They are the clichéd police force that is always nine steps behind the action, showing up just in time to clean up whatever mess is left after Drift and O’Malley conclude an action scene. If they show up at all.
Then there are the characters. Again, on the surface, the characters are just fine. Playing buddy cop to Drift and providing comic relief, O’Malley is a world-class hacker, but also a deadbeat dad. Because what Christmas movie isn’t complete without a broken family to mend? Santa is Santa, though he’s also a shredded Santa (Simmons looks like he discovered Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine workout regimen). Krampus is a fun goat-man thing who used to run amok with Gryla, but is now content to drink and be merry with other mythological creatures. And Gryla is every Christmas villain ever, though I don’t hate her idea of imprisoning every naughty person in their own snow globe. Preventing Santa from delivering some gifts seems like a bargain if it means no more wars, school shootings, or Joe Rogan.
The problem with the characters is they don’t mesh at all. On the plus side, Evans absolutely knows what kind of movie he’s in and does everything he can to carry the load. Conversely, Johnson has stapled his scowl to his face and seems to think he’s in a season of 24. There is zero chemistry between Evans and Johnson, and their entire journey comes off like a trip to the DMV…after having some teeth pulled. Liu is the stupid chief from every 80’s Action movie, Shipka is chewing up every scene she’s in, and Simmons looks bored during the sparse screen time Santa is giving, literally unconscious in half of them. Just, why? He’s J.K. Simmons – use him! And the talking polar bear. This movie definitely needed more talking polar bear.
Despite the film being a joyless slog at times, including an embarrassingly awkward and decidedly unfunny possession scene featuring Nick Kroll, I didn’t hate it. By all rights, I should have. It represents a lot of what is wrong with many big blockbusters, and not just the long list of garbage films featuring Johnson. With the inclusion of MORA and cameos by other myths, as well as a $250 million budget, it’s obvious that Warner Brothers and Johnson – through his Seven Bucks production company – think Red One will be the start of a franchise. While I’m a sucker for movies that get creative with stuff like “how does Santa deliver billions of presents in a single night” or “what’s the Achilles Heel of a magical, killer snowman if it’s not Aruba?” there probably aren’t enough twelve-year-old boys trapped in middle-aged men like me to save this film, let alone build a franchise.
Rating: Ask for fifteen dollars back and some holiday joy.
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