While watching Play Dirty, a handful of questions
naturally arise. Why do streaming giants keep pouring tens of millions into
flashy productions with A-list casts, only to churn out hollow copies of films
we’ve all seen before? Why do these big-budget titles often look visually dull,
as if shot through a gray filter? And how does Shane Black’s latest Amazon
Prime action-thriller, which reportedly only entered development in 2022, feel
so much like a dusty script pulled from the bottom drawer of his desk? Perhaps
the most pressing question of all: how does Mark Wahlberg still qualify as a
leading man?
The movie takes its cue from Donald E.
Westlake’s long-running series of Parker crime novels (published under the
alias Richard Stark), which have long proven tricky to adapt. John Boorman’s Point
Blank (1967), starring Lee Marvin, remains the definitive version, though
others — from Robert Duvall and Jim Brown to Mel Gibson and Jason Statham —
have also donned the mantle of the cold-blooded thief. Wahlberg now takes on
the role but lacks the sardonic bite and magnetic screen presence required to
make Parker compelling. The contrast is all the more painful whenever LaKeith
Stanfield is on screen — his offbeat charisma and sly irreverence make him the
real scene-stealer.
That imbalance feels especially glaring once you realize
Robert Downey Jr. was initially attached when the project was first developed
under Joel Silver. Black’s signature quick-witted banter is tailor-made for
Downey’s sharp, deadpan delivery, and it’s hard not to imagine the version of Play
Dirty that could have been. Instead, Wahlberg’s performance is flat,
another entry in his long string of uncharismatic roles post-The Departed
and The Fighter.
But Wahlberg isn’t the film’s only problem. Written by Black
along with Charles Mondry and Anthony Bagarozzi, Play Dirty is an
original tale loosely inspired by the Parker canon rather than any single book.
The film opens with Parker leading a crew through a robbery brimming with
sarcastic one-liners, only for an eager bystander (Byron Coll) to interrupt by
declaring, “I’m going to rob the robbers!” That interference sparks a chaotic
chase through a horse racing track that ends in wreckage and death before
Parker reclaims the stolen cash. Attempting to soften his mercenary image, the
filmmakers tack on a moralistic flourish: Parker tosses $10,000 to the
interloper’s wife before fleeing.
Things spiral further when Zen (Rosa Salazar), the team’s
newest member, guns down Parker’s crew — including his longtime partner Philly
Webb (Thomas Jane) — and absconds with the loot. Parker vows to settle the
score, promising Philly’s widow Grace (Gretchen Mol) that he’ll recover her
husband’s share and avenge his death. From there, Black leans into his usual
bag of tricks: overlapping betrayals, sudden reversals, swaggering dialogue,
and pratfalls that somehow play as victories.
Zen’s backstory complicates the picture: she’s a highly
skilled former soldier from an elite Latin American guard, now turned
revolutionary fighting against corrupt dictator Ignazio De La Paz (Alejandro
Edda). The political subplot hinges on the discovery of a sunken Spanish
galleon containing a jewel-encrusted artifact — the Lady of Arintero — valuable
enough to erase her nation’s debt. De La Paz schemes to steal the treasure
during a U.N. exhibition and sell it to billionaire Phineas Paul (Chukwudi Iwuji),
whose scenes include a goofy Mark Cuban cameo.
Salazar’s action sequences — showcasing her driving,
fighting, and sharpshooting prowess — give the movie brief jolts of energy,
though her constant references to “my country” verge on parody. Eventually,
Parker pretends to ally with Zen while plotting another “rob the robbers”
heist, this time against De La Paz, his henchmen, and “The Outfit,” a New York
crime syndicate run by Lozini (Tony Shalhoub). Their history involves a truce
that Parker would avoid New York in exchange for his life, a deal now put to
the test.
To form his new crew, Parker turns to Alan Grofield (LaKeith
Stanfield), a thief who bankrolls his obsession with experimental theater.
Though underdeveloped, Grofield’s actor-thief gimmick provides a few jokes —
and Stanfield’s laid-back charm makes him the film’s true highlight. Other
additions include art thieves Ed and Brenda Mackey (Keegan-Michael Key and
Claire Lovering), who contribute bickering comic relief, and reckless driver
Stan (Chai Hansen), who randomly launches into a hip-hop dance routine to Boney
M.
Yet by emphasizing slapstick humor and spectacle over
Westlake’s intricate plotting and grim cynicism, Black dilutes the stakes. The
big centerpiece sequences — halting a runaway New York subway trash train,
breaking into a supposedly impregnable Brooklyn vault — feel like a patchwork
of generic ’90s action tropes, loud and destructive but empty of dramatic
weight. A subplot about Lozini’s mob turning too “corporate” to function as
proper criminals fizzles, despite Shalhoub’s best efforts. Nat Wolff shows up
as a bumbling underworld foil, but his comedic turn only underscores how little
tension the film sustains.
On paper, Play Dirty boasts technical heavyweights —
composer Alan Silvestri, cinematographer Philippe Rousselot, and designer Owen
Paterson — but their contributions are drowned out by the movie’s noisy chaos.
The film has motion but no vitality, swagger but no spark, and certainly no
consistency of tone.
By the time the finale rolls around — Parker and Grofield
strolling through the CG-simulated wreckage of Times Square on New Year’s Eve —
the movie weakly gestures toward being a buddy comedy, though it hasn’t earned
the title. In the end, Play Dirty is less a sharp, sardonic crime caper
and more a flat, overstretched pastiche, proving that even with Shane Black’s
fingerprints and a stacked cast, some heists just aren’t worth pulling off.
Subscribe by Email
Follow Updates Articles from This Blog via Email
No Comments