Wolfs

Jon Watts’ Wolfs relies heavily on the wattage of its star power to carry a narrative that is only mildly inventive. Its belief in its own cleverness is somehow charming instead of grating. Sure, the dialogue, while engaging, isn’t nearly as snappy as Watts thinks it is. The twists and turns aren’t nearly as surprising. That does not, however, make the film any less entertaining, primarily, yes, due to its two shining stars, now approaching golden age. They polish the creaky dialogue, make it snap when it should fizzle; they keep you on the edge of your seat even when you know what’s coming next.

A wealthy prosecutor, Margaret (Amy Ryan), finds herself in a conundrum involving a potentially-dead body of a young “not-a-prostitute” man (Austin Abrams) and a bunch of heroin in her hotel room. She calls upon the help of a fixer (George Clooney) to clean up the mess. To both of their surprise, a second fixer (Brad Pitt) shows up, under the instruction of the hotel’s owner. They must now work together – except, minor spoiler alert, the boy isn’t actually dead, awakened by the fixers’ mutual friend, June (Poorna Jagannathan). Hijinks involving the Albanian mafia ensue.

“…the boy isn’t actually dead, fully resurrected by the fixers’ mutual friend, June.”

Watts picked some inventive locations, all back alleys, bridges, and an oddly lingering visual tone, that of darkness pierced by snowflakes, the extravagance of New York pitted against its griminess. There are a few unexpectedly hysterical scenes, one involving our heroes chasing a scantily-clad character through a wintry New York, leading to one of the film’s highlights: a slow-motion, backward pirouette over a car. There’s a pretty brutal shootout that ends in an applause-inducing bang, and the ending is quite poignant.

The entire story takes place over one snowy night, which may be an allusion to Scorsese’s After Hours. The more obvious allusions, those to the stars aging, abound. Their backs creak when they bend. They can’t read without their glasses. This is where things get slightly aggravating: if only Watts tried a little harder, and sharpened the edges a tad more, this could have been a real gem. As effortless as Clooney and Pitt’s screen charisma is, one can’t help but wish for a more polished scenario to complement it.

You look at Clooney and Pitt and you think of the decades of entertainment, decades of characters oozing charisma, and they somehow embody it in a silly caper. But there’s a caveat. You’re also reminded of their fading glory. This film skipped a theatrical run to have a premiere straight on Apple TV+ – a film with Clooney and Pitt and Ryan not making it to theaters unimaginable even a decade ago. The paradigm is here folks. Enjoy the old-school Wolfs on your home screens while you still can.