Review: Suicide Kings


A group of rich college kids (Sean Patrick Flanery, Jeremy Sisto, Jay Mohr, and Henry Thomas) kidnap businessman and former mobster Christopher Walken, take them to nerdy associate Johnny Galecki’s family mansion, tie him to a chair, and drug him. When Walken awakens, one of his fingers is missing, and he is made aware of the situation: Thomas’ sister has been kidnapped by two goons (Brad Garrett being one of them), with a $2 million ransom being demanded.

 

Unfortunately, the father of the kidnapped girl has managed to screw things up, and so now they want Walken to use his mob connections to get the girl set free. Walken claims to be out of that life now, but the boys are having none of that. But Walken is a wily bastard and starts playing his captors against one another, even suggesting that there might be an ‘inside man’ on the kidnapping. Is this true or is he just fucking with them? Denis Leary plays Walken’s chief henchman, who is trying to locate his boss, with Cliff De Young playing Walken’s concerned legal counsel. Leary’s henchman character is some piece of work. He wears $1500 stingray shoes, freely gives money to a homeless guy, but then turns it all around when his shoes get damaged. Obviously his sense of charity is handicapped by his intense rage. He also has a hatred for women bashers, and in one great scene (apparently the only one with dialogue not improvised by Leary) lets us in on just why that is.

 

Directed by Peter O'Fallon (whose cinematic directorial debut this was after directing episodes of “Northern Exposure” among other things) and scripted by Josh McKinney, Gina Goldman, and Wayne Rice, this 1997 flick is one of the better crime flicks to come out in the wake of Tarantino’s overrated but influential “Pulp Fiction”. The mixture of gangster and dark comedy isn’t always on target and there are a few too many characters, but there are some fine moments and not a bad performance in sight. Particularly impressive are Christopher Walken and Denis Leary (the latter is brilliant), but Jay Mohr (as the hot-head of the group) and Johnny Galecki (simply born to play a whiny guy named Ira) have their moments too.

 

I think the solution is predictable from before the midway point, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the film’s ending. It’s certainly a ruthless and perhaps even appropriate ending, maybe unavoidable. But it leaves you with a different feeling than the preceding 90 or so minutes had.

 

Overall, this is enjoyable stuff, especially for genre fans. I’d certainly much rather watch this than “Pulp Fiction”, or Flanery’s uneven “Boondock Saints” movies, for that matter.

 

Rating: B-

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