When you go to see a film called Shoot ‘Em Up, you pretty much know what you’re signing up for. This is a movie that will never be sued for violating truth in advertising, it’s literally one long gun fight / car chase / car chase-gun fight, from start to finish. But, what a never-ending razzle dazzle of gun play it is. Let the metaphors commence!

Paul Haslinger – Warehouse Shootout

Boiling the essence of the mindless Holywood action film down to a diamond hard core the plot comes at you streamlined and loaded for bear. The movie starts with a bang as our “hero” Clive Owen attempts, grudgingly, to rescue a pregnant woman, and deliver her baby. Since this is the story it is, the rescuing and delivering are accomplished while gunning down and carrot fu-ing the standard never-ending horde of well armed toughs. Yes, carrot fu. If you like this kind of thing, the exaggerated gun play is right on target and provides for high caliber entertainment. From this point, Shoot becomes the story of Owen’s “Mr. Smith”, a cold as lead killer, pell melling about with a gun / carrot in one hand and a baby in the other. Though there’s no baby-fu, per se, Little Oliver (as the kid is eventually named) turns out to be pretty hip, with his surrogate dad’s sock on his head for warmth, a love for heavy metal music, and a bullet proof vest for swaddling. Hey, no babys were harmed in the making of this motion picture!

Over the top not only in pace, but also characterization and acting style, of the three leads only Owen gives a subdued performance. His method of playing steely-eyed tough guys is so great I really don’t care if he gives the same performance in every film, as long as he keeps giving it. In fact, I’d have to say with I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead, Sin City, Derailed, Inside Man and Children Of Men Clive Owen has officially entered the list of major league tough guys for the 00’s.
As any afficionado of the genre knows, an action film is only as good as its villain, and Shoot ‘Em Up presents us with one highly memorable psychopath. Paul Giamati, as bad guy Mr. Hertz, doesn’t so much chew the scenery as gnash it. He delivers his one-liner dialogue with the wicked glee of a man released from serious film jail and his enjoyment flies off the screen and becomes ours. Plus, he doesn’t look stupid holding a gun, always a good thing in a movie like this.
The love interest (Ha! “love”, lust is more like it) is provided by sultry Monica Belluci who plays (what else) a whore. Ah, lest you think the movie’s losing it’s edge and going on automatic fire, she’s not just any old prostitute; she’s a whore whose special kink is breast feeding. You see? It’s the all in the details.

Since love, ahem, lust, has entered the picture the movie does calm down long enough for some deliberately ridiculous character motivation and for the lactating whore and Smith to get it on. This (naturally) becomes, but is not interrupted by, another gun fight.
Clocking in at a trim ninety minutes (Tarantino take note!) this movie sets its sights on mindless entertainment and hits the bullseye. The acme of super slick Hollywood action, Shoot ‘Em Up kills more stuntman extras than you can shake an empty clip at, all while leaving the principles mainly unscathed for the big finish. So, if you were expecting gritty realism… Well, it’s gritty anyway… Feel free to leave your brain at home, you’ll only need it to buy popcorn.

VERDICT: Get down with Shoot ‘Em Up!