It's not up to the same ... snuff as the 1st 2, but it does have enough gripping (& slicing/breaking) moments to keep me watching, which says a lot. So the fight sequences are Just A Touch "stylized," as it were, they are still amazingly executed, artfully shot & deftly edited - & for me to be impressed by Ms. Berry's battle scenes, when she long has been no Fan Favorite of mine, really shows old gal deserves Nuff Respect in that regard, & should drown out the catcalls & boobirds of 18 years ago (Catwoman & her dogs mincing meat was Ab-Fab!).
Actually the only aspects of Numero Trois here that left me flatly underwhelmed vs the 1st 2 chapters are the long-winded title, the cacophonous "music" that felt like it was fighting *against* the story instead of embellishing same, the very annoying repetition of the High Table as just "the Table" - which is totally devoid of the same Shroud of Mystery - that exasperating "clerical" section with its transparently self-conscious parody of Brazil (1985), once again beating the audience about the eyes with wince-inducing primitive technology like rotary dial phones/plug-in switchboards, ancient computers with displays straight out of Alien (1979) & chalkboards (!) that lent NO atmosphere to the proceedings &, most of all, that absolutely horrid anemic Adjudicatress. "It is to laugh" Daffy Duck style at how, as much yapping as she did in that tinny nasal bark devoid of the remotest wisp of "threatening," she came up *far* short of the mark compared to a gal who said absolutely NOTHING except in sign language. Whoever chose her for the role should be drummed out of the movie service; her gotta-catch-a-train rapidfire line readings were utterly devoid of substance, & I was soon given to a contemptuous little snort at her every appearance that an untrained high school goth girl could have delivered better (I actually groaned "Oh no, not THAT again!" when she appeared to "deconsecrate" the Continental; I swear with her Flat Affect & lightspeed line readings, Miss Halle's dogs out-acted her!). The scene at that yawnworthy Grand Central Station - her looks have always been a distant 2nd to the long-destroyed original Pennsylvania Station - felt gratuitously "patched-in" just for the sake of pasting her onscreen for the umpteenth time & failing miserably in the attempt of an opponent the equal of Cassian, having as much tension as a broken rubber band. The Final Battle for the Continental was an absorbing bloodbath which the lighting made into a frightening spectacle (even Charon, his hand shaking as he readjusted his glasses after reloading his gun, felt that), which made me actually apprehensive of the outcome! Gotta hand it to em for that. So they managed, this being the 2nd sequel, not to wear out John Wick's welcome in the process (just now had to blow a big fat Bronx raspberry at the Adjudicatress during the "parley" with Winston, she is SO the weakest link in this bloodstained chain!); but "we have only to wait" for the literally years-delayed Part Quatre, "coming soon to a theater near you!" to assess its quality & see if they've managed to maintain it - & whether or not we'll want more of Mister Wick thereafter. Hope they will have learned the lessons of beat-past-death Star Wars (from '99 on down, that is)!
Actually the only aspects of Numero Trois here that left me flatly underwhelmed vs the 1st 2 chapters are the long-winded title, the cacophonous "music" that felt like it was fighting *against* the story instead of embellishing same, the very annoying repetition of the High Table as just "the Table" - which is totally devoid of the same Shroud of Mystery - that exasperating "clerical" section with its transparently self-conscious parody of Brazil (1985), once again beating the audience about the eyes with wince-inducing primitive technology like rotary dial phones/plug-in switchboards, ancient computers with displays straight out of Alien (1979) & chalkboards (!) that lent NO atmosphere to the proceedings &, most of all, that absolutely horrid anemic Adjudicatress. "It is to laugh" Daffy Duck style at how, as much yapping as she did in that tinny nasal bark devoid of the remotest wisp of "threatening," she came up *far* short of the mark compared to a gal who said absolutely NOTHING except in sign language. Whoever chose her for the role should be drummed out of the movie service; her gotta-catch-a-train rapidfire line readings were utterly devoid of substance, & I was soon given to a contemptuous little snort at her every appearance that an untrained high school goth girl could have delivered better (I actually groaned "Oh no, not THAT again!" when she appeared to "deconsecrate" the Continental; I swear with her Flat Affect & lightspeed line readings, Miss Halle's dogs out-acted her!). The scene at that yawnworthy Grand Central Station - her looks have always been a distant 2nd to the long-destroyed original Pennsylvania Station - felt gratuitously "patched-in" just for the sake of pasting her onscreen for the umpteenth time & failing miserably in the attempt of an opponent the equal of Cassian, having as much tension as a broken rubber band. The Final Battle for the Continental was an absorbing bloodbath which the lighting made into a frightening spectacle (even Charon, his hand shaking as he readjusted his glasses after reloading his gun, felt that), which made me actually apprehensive of the outcome! Gotta hand it to em for that. So they managed, this being the 2nd sequel, not to wear out John Wick's welcome in the process (just now had to blow a big fat Bronx raspberry at the Adjudicatress during the "parley" with Winston, she is SO the weakest link in this bloodstained chain!); but "we have only to wait" for the literally years-delayed Part Quatre, "coming soon to a theater near you!" to assess its quality & see if they've managed to maintain it - & whether or not we'll want more of Mister Wick thereafter. Hope they will have learned the lessons of beat-past-death Star Wars (from '99 on down, that is)!