It’s been 23 years since George Clooney and Brad Pitt first teamed up to do a caper, forming one of the more indelible movie pairings of the new century. They made three Ocean’s movies together, briefly shared the screen in Burn After Reading, and then went their separate ways.
But they couldn’t stay apart forever. Thus Wolfs, a new crime comedy that premiered here at the Venice Film Festival on Sunday. Written and directed by Jon Watts—who made the last three Spider-Man movies and, more relevantly, the clever low-budget thriller Cop Car—the film is an amiable lark, more of a saunter than a dash through wintry, nighttime New York City. As a pair of rival underworld fixers, Clooney and Pitt invert their Ocean’s dynamic. They’re strangers to one another, and initially hostile in the ring-a-ding banter way of comedies like this; we never think they’re going to start shooting at each other.
They meet in a luxe hotel suite after both being called for the same job: a panicking woman (Amy Ryan) is standing over the body of a nearly nude young man lying on the bedroom floor. She needs it cleaned up and to make a discreet exit. It’s an amusing, lively scene that sets the stage for a movie in which people can be hurt, but nothing is going to get too dark. Which is the right tone for a Clooney/Pitt team up; they’ve always worked best when they’re not all that serious.
Both men, unnamed throughout the film, want to be the guy in charge, a bit that gets a little stale in all its repetition but is still sold by leading-man glow. Anyway, they’re soon bonded together in a manner familiar in Hollywood plotting: a pesky youngster who has suddenly come under their care. He’s the presumed dead guy on the floor, a seeming innocent who has found himself caught up in a city-wide drug war. He explains this mostly in a spluttering, rapid-fire monologue delivered with verve by Austin Abrams, who ably holds his own against two of the biggest movie stars on the planet. The kid’s presence nicely complicates the two fixers’ rapport, and creates a surprising, morbid suspense: to make the getaway entirely clean, the kid might have to go.
But first the threesome has to go on a little quest, a minor odyssey through various corners of the city. Which, it must be said, is something of the fourth main character in the film. Watts is a local, and he films his town with affection and fresh perspective. He’s found lots of interesting locations—an outer-borough banquet hall, the forlorn Brighton Beach boardwalk, neon-lit Chinatown—and shot them lushly. A soft and steady snow falls throughout the film, adding a sense of peace and hush to offset the garrulous antics. A testament to the specific graces of on-location filming, Wolfs presents a New York that is at once recognizable and novel.
The script could use a bit more of that idiosyncrasy. While there are plenty of amusing quips and running gags, some of Pitt and Clooney’s repartee feels like recycled material from the Ocean-verse, a kind of repetitious back-and-forth that mistakes tempo for wit. There are also a few narrative contrivances that glare in an otherwise sleek, smart production—one in particular involving the aforementioned banquet hall and a Croatian wedding dance. Maybe Watts is lovingly referring back to the broad comedies of his youth, but Wolfs is otherwise too cool for such cliché.
For the most part, though, Wolfs meets the brief. It’s a confident, engaging Saturday-night movie, of the sort that has become dismayingly rare. How heartening to see a director return from the realm of superheroes (where he was responsible for some of the better entries) and make a humbler, more streamlined film for grownups. All he had to do was get two global superstars to get the project across the financing finish line.
It’s a shame, then, that Apple backed away from the proper theatrical release originally planned for the film. Wolfs is the kind of movie that probably could get people out of their houses, a satisfying complement to dinner and drinks. The movie is not trying to make any grand statements or reinvent any wheels; it is only trying to entertain. This used to be a good enough reason to leave the couch. If Wolfs is playing at a theater near you, consider making the investment. Tell the Hollywood powers that be that you’re willing to help them fix the terrible mess they’ve made.