Wolfs (sic) was an easy sell as for a quarter of a century and more, and for good or ill, I’ve followed the cinematic careers of George Clooney and Brad Pitt as they’ve both soared into the stratosphere high above Tinseltown. Between them, these two ridiculously handsome men share over 170 acting credits (including TV, early career uncredited roles and cameo roles), nearly 130 production credits and for Clooney in particular, a lucky 9 films spanning two decades and largely behind the camera as cheerleader in chief from the director’s chair. They share four Oscars too and whilst this film won’t be troubling the great and the good of next year’s voting panel, Wolfs is an entertaining way of spending a couple of hours in the darkness of the cinema with a loved one next to you as you gently fight your way to the bottom of a salty (Brad) pit of popcorn.
Wolfs is as fun and off kilter as the trailer would have you believe. It’s Christmas time in New York and a male prostitute (who isn’t a prostitute) has met a grisly yet accidental end and another of society’s anonymous flotsam and jetsam has to be cleaned away by a professional fixer lest shame befall the moneyed class caught in a web of lies the mother spider would rather see discreetly dispensed with. You need a “professional” and an “expert” and one anonymous telephone call brings you both in the guise of “Margaret’s Man” (George Clooney). But the all seeing eye cannot allow this unfortunate mess to be cleaned away by just one sharply dressed agent in black so enter stage left the fixer’s mirror image “Pam’s Man” (Brad Pitt), and another middle-aged ghost who prefers the anonymity and solitude of his own company within his own controlled and discreet environment. Against the better judgement and wishes of them both, they now collectively have a “clusterfuck” to clean up and all before the first of two early narrative twists binds the eerily similar odd couple tighter together amid the fractious tension and sarcastic gags of an old married couple who have played this game for far too long, and yet have a sneaking desire for their strange dance to continue.
So what does all this mean for Wolfs? (spelling is still correct)
Under the directorial guidance of Jon Watts and a beautifully bubbly idiosyncratic musical score from Theodore Shapiro you have two not so smooth operators driving and listening to Sade in the longest night of their lives (so far) as a fun cinematic romp revolves around a bickering couple we may, if we’re lucky, relate to: a dancing partner in the game of life who fires the competitive spirit in the other to be the very best and enjoy the ride along the way.
Or it’s simply Brad and George, Batman and some bloke called Tyler Durden, having a ball together on the big screen.
It’s certainly a fun way to share some popcorn with someone you love.
Peace.
Thanks for reading. I hope this message in a bottle in The Matrix finds you well, prospering, and the right way up in an upside down world.
"Tales I Tell Myself" - link to Amazon
