Review: Wild Target

Usually unflappable hitman Bill Nighy (who is feared by reputation only because no one has ever even seen him he’s that elusive) is pestered by his elderly mother Eileen Atkins (no stranger to killing herself) to produce an heir. He’s been hired to kill a young con artist (Emily Blunt- whose name always sounds like naughty Cockney rhyming slang to me), but finds he just can’t go through with it. However, this is mostly due to circumstance (something continues to get in the way), rather than just second thoughts. Instead he saves her life in a parking garage (i.e. He kills a rival hitman for muscling in on his turf), taking along a young garage employee (Rupert Grint) for good measure as they flee Nighy’s replacements, sent by mobster Rupert Everett. Grint even manages to bump one of them off himself. Blunt, not knowing that Nighy is actually a hitman (not to mention one hired to killer her) pays him to be her personal bodyguard and Nighy begrudgingly accepts.  Needless to say, Mummy most certainly will not be proud. Hiding out in Nighy’s family estate in the country, the trio bond...sort of. Nighy might even have found an apprentice in Grint, who appears to have the knack for gunplay. As for the somewhat icy Blunt (who stole a Rembrandt, by the way), she starts to warm to the repressed Nighy too and vice versa. In fact, they might just...well, you’ll see. Martin Freeman turns up as Nighy’s replacement, who has the whitest teeth you’ll ever see.

I’m not usually a big fan of black comedies (though the Brits tend to do them better than most). “A Fish Called Wanda”, for instance, is highly overrated and only very occasionally hilarious despite my being a big Python fan. This 2010 flick from Jonathan Lynn (the underrated “Clue” and equally underrated black comedy “Nuns on the Run”) is one of the better ones of late, but isn’t exactly gut-busting. It’s quite engaging, though, for a black comedy about an assassin (it’s a bit lighter in tone than most), and the performances are terrific.

Emily Blunt is a terrific actress in the right role (I thought she’d be a star after first seeing her in “My Summer of Love” and still think her star is far from fading), but occasionally gets cast in roles she’s not suited for. Take her mind-bogglingly Oscar-nominated role in “Young Victoria”, where she was supposed to be little more than a sulky and petulant teenager destined to become Queen. Too old for the part for starters, it just didn’t suit her the way that more cynical, bitchy and slightly snooty roles like the ones she played in “The Devil Wears Prada” and even “Wind Chill” did. There’s a definite upper-posh, ‘unattainable’ vibe about Blunt on screen in addition to her obvious beauty and charisma. Her role in this definitely suits her well, as we can see both why someone might fancy her (she’s sexy as hell, actually), but also what makes it hard to like her character (she’s a bitch, basically). So it’s great to see her back on track here, because I do see genuine talent and star quality in her. You really shouldn’t like her character in this, but damn it, you can’t help it (especially if you’re male).

Bill Nighy’s sad sack facial features and dry delivery are absolutely pitch-perfect for his role as the aging hitman who is now thinking about his own mortality and the possibility of not having left a legacy behind. You don’t buy Blunt being interested in the gaunt-looking Nighy? Two words: Mick Jagger. Now shut the eff up about it. Even Rupert Grint is perfectly fine in a somewhat stoner role as the potential protégé. There’s also fine work by Martin Freeman’s ridiculously white teeth, and seriously bizarre-looking Rupert Everett (who has completely cosmetically wrecked his once handsome face), but especially Eileen Atkins as Nighy’s elderly but dangerous old mum who steals her every scene.

It’s entertaining stuff, not overly ambitious or original, but fun. I’m surprised by some of the negative reviews for this one, I enjoyed it. Perhaps it’s an acquired taste, then. The screenplay by Lucinda Coxon is apparently based on a 1993 French comedy unseen by me, but also quite reminiscent of Ealing comedies like the excellent “The Ladykillers”. This ain’t no “Ladykillers” in quality, but it’ll do.

Rating: B-