Directed By BenDavid Grabinski

Starring – Vince Vaughn, James Marsden, Eiza Gonzalez

The Plot – A crime enforcer named Nick (Vaughn) uses time travel to prevent the death of his partner, Mike (Marsden), whom he previously framed for an affair with his wife, Alice (González), after discovering the betrayal

Rated R for strong/bloody violence, pervasive language, sexual material, and drug use.

Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice | Official Trailer | Hulu

POSITIVES

Even with a lack of unattainable experience within Grabinski’s previous work wielding a limitless allowance of possibilities for my expectations towards the film, I am still shocked by the merits of heart and artistry that not only increased the originality factors of its finished product towards a genre that is typically not privy to such ambition, despite genre-familiar pieces assembled to the construct, but also the evidentially expressive elements of his many artistic influences that come across in an engaging execution with no shortage of personality to its many appealing elements that make for such a romping good time. For starters, the action sequences involving crisply smooth and seamless fight choreography combined with boldly immersive sound schemes conveying the destructional influence of the on-screen devastation, are taken to a whole other level with documentational choices from Larry Fong in the cinematography that authentically exudes the uncontrollable chaos factor of Hong Kong cinema, featuring abrupt close-ups, double-wielding gunfights, and setting tangibility towards the physicality that not only speaks volumes about the un-staged spontaneity involved with the believability factor of so many of the physical conflicts that are influenced by objects so close within the stratosphere of the characters, but also meticulously surmised hilarity that comes to match its comedically-dominated tendencies cohesively, without anything even closely resembling abruptly jarring tonal shifts that typically distance the magnetism of so many subgenres coming together towards something freshly innovative. While not all of the visual choices within the distinguished presentation attain prominence to Grabinski’s instinctual impulses, there’s so much on-screen personality and off-screen intensity elicited in the rendering that feels so refreshingly experimental for straight-to-streaming action movies of the seemingly weekly variety, offering gut-wrenching thrills and unexpected spills to meticulously built storytelling that proved this movie capable of the ample opportunity supplanted from its R-rating, allowing Grabinski the freedom to get creative without the need to go over the top with the movie’s visual violence. Speaking of the storytelling, there’s so much about the aforementioned plot that remains obscured from the unraveled journey of this story’s expansion, such as the time-traveling component to the movie’s plot device that is continuously approached at eye level with audience interpretation, in order to keep from convoluting or confusing what should feel effortless to understand. While the movie refuses to get too scientific with the details, instead resting on the preconceived laurels of what history has taught us in films like Back to the Future, or even The Terminator, in turn concerning itself with the creativity of its mile-a-minute comedic gags that surprisingly did flourish an effective consistency in their landings, without the delivery of one gag intruding upon the set-up of the next. Part of its appeal certainly depends on the impeccable timing of its radiantly charismatic ensemble, but there’s just as much deserved praise to be paid to Grabinski’s material that remains unafraid to tap into the vulnerabilities of these dangerous characters and their situationally embarrassing conflicts, allowing for the bizarrely silly variety structured around the singular night framing device of several after parties transpiring between our antagonists, where characters names like Dumbass Tony or Roid-Raid Roger, or even Ben Schwartz performance of Billy Joel’s “Why Should I Worry?” immediately appraises a stern reminder to check your seriousness at the door. That musical number is just one of the many randomly unforeseen song choices that the movie’s surprisingly eclectic soundtrack makes throughout the decorated engagement, particularly as a means of conveying an atmospheric juxtaposition to instrumentals and lyrics that doesn’t exactly reflect the brutally unforgiving imagery of its visuality, and while this contextual flimsiness typically supplants disdain for kids movies that utilize the desire to sell song downloads over the need to stitch in songs that echo correspondence within the storytelling, here its distracting randomness actually enhances the unserious demeanor of Grabinski’s maniacal mayhem with these intrusive inserts, and considering I am a longtime fan of every song assembled, it infectiously enhanced my investment to scenes that already attained a fun factor to the frenetic energies of so many combustible characters, all the while appraising even more needle drops to the movie’s already unpredictable outline, that makes it feel so effortlessly engaging. I also would be doing a grave disservice if I didn’t give immense praises to each of the main trio of actors at this movie’s forefront, but especially Vince Vaughn, who becomes the latest actor to perform two characters under the banner of a singular movie. Vaughn has always been an actor who makes everyone better around him, with the results here conjuring an impeccable chemistry with his co-stars that starts and ends on a passionate conversation on Gilmore Girls, but with regards to his own elasticity as a performer, Vaughn not only taps into the razor sharp timing of his prime, attaining a nostalgic nourishment to the familiar energies of his sternly serious deliveries, but also conjures a distinct versatility to the complexion of the characters that sees a softer and more enlightened side to futuristic Nick, while the current day incarnation of the character is every bit the coldly calculating and imposing stature that proves Vaughn’s undebatable depth as a performer, providing some of his most challenging material since his mesmerizing turn in 2017’s Brawl in Cell Block 99.

NEGATIVES

While Mike & Nick and Nick & Alice is a bareknuckle bruiser of a good time deserving of all of the emphatic praises that it will get from an adoring audience, it isn’t without problems, as the screenplay’s inconsistencies makes for some underwhelming choices with the pacing of the storytelling that proves Grabinski might’ve wore himself thin, with regards to his extensive grasp over the project. The first of these instances stem from the antagonist aspect of the plot, with the film’s frequently deviating structure cutting to them consistently after a previous scene involving our three (Well, really four) protagonists has concluded, and considering they are the idiotic brand who make it difficult to believe that they ever maintained control over a mob chapter, their control over the balance of the movie’s 101-minute runtime starts to become tediously redundant the longer the film transpires, and as a result leaves our development towards the protagonists feeling noticeably inferior, with Marsden’s Mike essentially feeling like nothing other than the device that spawns this whole confrontation with Nick, as well as the surrounding mob, who view him as a rat informant. For my money, the antagonists are justified in their inclusion to the finished product, as without them there would be no semblance of stakes to what’s transpiring in the time-traveling gimmick, but it definitely could’ve used more scattered and sporadic uses in its accompaniment, in order to keep it from weighing down the integrity of the experience, especially considering the on-going joke of one after party after another requires the movie to vividly frame each of them. In addition to this, I found the film’s ending to gutlessly revel in the confines of an objective that shamelessly shovels for an unnecessary sequel, instead of being this one-and-done lightning in a bottle that could’ve prospered as its own individualized creative effort, taking away some of the influential impact from a movie that feels like it got the most important aspects right on roughly 95% of the movie. The problem in this instance is that the movie does attain a bittersweet ending that unlocks some unforeseen empathetic emotionality to the characters, with a last minute sing-a-long representing so much profound meaning to the realities of what’s actually transpiring, but then a tacked-on scene following it feels like it smothers away any semblance of sobering sting from this meaningful moment, as a way of sending audiences home happy, in turn eliciting what is arguably the single most glaring instance of convenience from a movie this year, for a particular plot device that quite literally comes out of nowhere to usher in a desire to make this a franchise, feeling like a post-movie note from the executives of a studio whose intrusion comes at the single most defining moment during the movie’s prominence. Finally, while I previously commended Grabinski’s direction for the many unique touches of the presentation that sampled his influences, the one inferior aspect of that channeling stems from a Step-printing technique that crafts a dreamily jittery low frame rate that feels like slow motion for the visual storytelling, as a means of emulating Wong Kar-Wai’s Chungking Express. The problem in its usage here compared to that movie is not only does it utilize this aspect during action sequences, in ways that feel like speed bumps to the smoothly seamless execution of the aforementioned choreography, but also during moments outside of physicality that show up during the most random of moments of establishing shots between its protagonists, producing a distressing distraction that overly abused its appeal with increasing repetition throughout the movie’s second half, when it didn’t have me checking the connection of my television, in fear of a possibly lagging WiFi connection.

OVERALL
Mike & Nick and Nick & Alice is a stylistically stimulating and energetically infectious time warp of an action comedy that produces more artistry and ambition than most straight-to-streaming properties, with a double dose of Vince Vaughn at the movie’s center doing most of the heavy lifting. While the script occasionally stumbles in its desire to remain balanced, on its way to an ending that wastes away the magnitude of its emotional momentum, in order to cater to the prospect of future installments, the intensity and creativity of the many exciting set pieces, combined with its effective comedic consistency, unlocks a cleverly chaotic and creative good time that offers a unique spin to the overworn time-traveling plot device, in turn appraising a hopeful future for BenDavid Grabinski.

My Grade: 7.1 or B