Thomas Matich

Following the "whitelash" election of Donald Trump to the Oval Office last November, Jordan Peele's timely directorial debut Get Out emerges as a winking, cunning comedy-thriller satire that roasts identity politics and race relations in the age of this neu-American nightmare that is the Trump administration. The film's plot and twists have been widely spelled out in the trailer: black boyfriend goes away for the weekend with this white girlfriend to meet the parents in the country, but something is not quite right and it becomes Guess Who's Coming To Dinner meets The 'Burbs.

It has recently been revealed that face-punched white nationalist Richard Spencer comes from a wealthy family of cotton farmers whose old money originates from the Jim Crow south; Spencer is an open racist but Get Out critiques something more frightening, the hidden agendas of the limousine liberal sect -- those who use terms such as "super-predators" and have "public and …

John Wick doesn't just let the bullets fly, he makes them blitz with fury like a brutalizing quarterback sack: blood spattering close-proximity head shots and cruel blasts to knee caps. Keanu Reeves embodies Wick with a David Putty meets Chuck Norris bravado: less talk, more bad-ass. 
In the first movie, Wick was a heartbroken hitman who goes on a rampage after his dog is killed by Russian mobsters who steal his prized Mach I Mustang and audiences were hypnotized by Reeve's darkroom close quarters killshots and grizzled Kung fu. Chapter 2 picks up where Wick left off in the original film, searching for his stolen Mustang and kicking Russian ass.
In this sequel, as with many others in the action genre, the budget is doubled and the stakes are higher, with Wick the target of the vengeful, flamboyant Italian bad-guy Santino D'Antonio (Scarmarcio) who he owes a blood-oath favor to. Chapter 2 fills in the gaps between the stellar action sequences with formulaic sequel story-bu…