Killer Elite served as a cinematic-palate cleanser—fast, refreshing, adrenaline-inducing—between Drive and Melancholia, two more “serious” films on my viewing agenda.  An intricately-twisted plot, performers for whom the descriptors “macho” and “hard-bitten” seem to have been coined, and heaping dollops of violent action have been blended into a satisfying, manly stew of a movie.

Danny and Hunter are mercenaries and hired killers (but the good kind of killers, of course, only assassinating bad people); after a botched job in Mexico, in which he nearly kills the young daughter of their target, Danny retires.  He goes to Australia to rebuild a farmhouse with his bare hands (because he can), and romancing a sexy lady rancher in his spare moments (well, of course).  However, Danny’s new life is interrupted when he learns Hunter is being held hostage by a terminally-ill Arab sheik who wants the killers of his eldest sons tracked down and executed, pronto.  

The three killers in question are former members of Britain’s Special Air Service (SAS), an elite military force.  Danny and his best mates, a rough lot of hard lads to be sure, don’t have a lot of trouble carrying out the initial hits—even though they’re also required by their employer to obtain video-taped confessions from the victims and make the murders appear to be accidents—but they’ve soon stirred up a hornet’s nest.  It seems there is a secret society of ex-SAS men who don’t take kindly to the gradual eradication of the group’s alumni; their best man Spike is put on Danny’s trail. 

First appearances are deceiving, and the contract isn’t as simple as it seemed—not from any side of the equation, apparently everyone has an ulterior motive in this netherworld of international intrigue—and if the twists of the story become rather difficult to follow…well, welcome to the club. Killer Elite isn’t primarily a brain-teasing picture, but the script does make an effort to avoid being too simplistic or a mere framework for a series of violent confrontations, and deserves some credit for the attempt at complexity.  Still, the secret society concept is slightly silly and self-conscious, to be honest: they call themselves “The Feathermen” (their secret business cards even have feathers on them) and their introductory scene is so basically expository—“let’s describe who we are and what we do, even though we’re talking among ourselves, so we already know that”— that it becomes almost parodic. The audience appreciates the information but it could have been conveyed more subtly, couldn’t it?

This minor blemish aside, Killer Elite is otherwise quite efficient in getting from point “a” to point “b” and providing the requisite punching, kicking, shooting, stabbing, furniture-smashing, exploding, car-chasing action along the way.  The film largely eschews elaborate and unrealistic special effects-based action sequences a la Fast & Furious, Transformers, etc., opting instead for more “personal” stunts and hand-to-hand combat—this may not be strictly “realistic,” but at least there aren’t people leaping out of cars that flew off speeding trains, plunging over 200-foot cliffs and landing in a river in the middle of the desert.  Things like that are cool, I know, but it’s a nice change of pace to have guys just punching and shooting each other.

Another difference between Killer Elite and (for example) Fast Five and/or The Expendables (both films I enjoyed) is the former film’s…tone, for lack of a better word.  The characters have some depth: even though there aren’t that many introspective scenes, these people aren’t cardboard cut-outs or exaggerated caricatures.  Jason Statham and Clive Owen are brawny enough, but their performances (and the script) suggest something lies beneath their rough-hewn exterior.  I once considered Robert DeNiro one of the finest actors of his generation and while his role in Killer Elite won’t exactly earn him another Oscar, it’s at least a respectable, substantial, and dignified “grizzled sidekick” role which in some measure makes up for Meet the Fockers, et al.  (I’m not begrudging DeNiro some easy paydays, and I understand he’s now in the “character actor” category, I’m simply lamenting a few of his career choices over the past decade or so…I could say the same about Al Pacino and a number of others, to be sure).  The production values, direction, photography, editing, and all of the other invisible but important aspects of the film are also satisfactory: this is a slick, speedy, professional job from start to finish.

There isn’t a lot to write about in regards to Killer Elite, it’s not intellectually challenging, socially or politically relevant (alright, with something of a stretch, you might find a political thought or two), or even emotionally affecting.  It’s just a satisfyingly effective “entertainment” for action-film enthusiasts.  And there’s nothing wrong with that, nothing at all.