By Jeremy Carr.
At just 88 minutes, King of Killers moves along at a well enough pace, but when there are lulls in the film it can be as lifeless as so many corpses strewn across the floor.”
There’s something to be said for the escapist allure of a big, dumb, over-the-top action film, as long as there’s also something exceptional about the cinematic visualization of its car chases, stunts, and/or shootouts. Unfortunately, in the case of King of Killers (2023), it’s neither big nor over-the-top, leaving only one suitable description.
To begin with, nearly everything about the film goes exactly as one would expect. Alain Moussi is expert assassin Marcus Garan, initially seen with a kitschy fake mustache, ordering a Shirley Temple, and dispatching his targets with everything from a handgun to the temple tip of his glasses (he’s so quirky!). Of course, he’s also a playful romantic with a happy home life, a loving wife, and doting daughter. Everything is perfect until it isn’t, and after his wife mysteriously shows up to one of his assignments and is killed (Stray bullets? A deliberate execution?), fate pours salt on the wound by revealing his little girl has a serious, and seriously expensive, heart condition. Having vowed to get out of the murder-for-hire game, Marcus is nevertheless pulled by his parental heartstrings and tempted by the financial prospect of a dubious deal brought to his attention by an inscrutable stranger.
Leaving behind his sufficiently shady friend and handler, Robert Xane (Stephen Dorff), Marcus embarks on the new arrangement and, from there, King of Killers trades in its evocative wintry settings (Winnipeg standing in for Chicago) for the bright lights of Tokyo. However, due to its production restraints—a 15-day shoot and not the heftiest of budgets—the duration of the picture remains largely indoors. The scenic downgrade works fine for the ensuing narrative, though, which places Marcus and a handful of other assassins in a room where they are given their next mission. Jorg Drakos (Frank Grillo) is the eponymous “King of Killers,” the best of the best, they say, and he wants to prove his worth by taking out the competition. Equipped with their own unique styles and skill sets, characterizing various shapes and sizes and, with one woman present, sexes, the assembled killers must kill Drakos before he kills them. And so, well, the killing begins.
There is, predictably enough, instant antagonism, some grudging alliances, covert cross-purposes, and the lingering question of what exactly Drakos is getting at with this convoluted competition? Going along with the gimmicky scenario all the same, the plan, at first, is to seek out Drakos one by one, while the remaining contestants—all tough-talking and endlessly posturing—gather to watch along via hidden cameras strategically placed in the garishly colorful facility, most allowing for impossible mobility and advantageous vantage points. King of Killers revels in its subsequent violence and CGI bloodshed, and at one point I was reminded of Dario Argento’s comments about the joy of coming up with creative ways to kill people, which is something writer/director Kevin Grevioux also seems to appreciate as individuals are habitually slain with gory fertility. Yet the result here is lacking the analog artistry of Argento as well as the self-effacing humor of, say, a 1980s action movie, to which the film also gives a hearty throwback.
King of Killers is based on Grevioux’s own graphic novel and as his first directorial outing he brings to the picture a keen sense of comic-book stylization, graphic illustration, and fight choreography. Best known for his work on the Underworld series and his incredibly deep voice, he also stars in the film as one of the enlisted cutthroats. Dorff, who doesn’t get much to work with, is perhaps the most famous name associated with the film, and Grillo, who gets what he usually gets to work with, is the most famous face, owing to his wicked turn in several Marvel movies as well as such outstanding features as 2011’s The Grey and 2012’s End of Watch and Zero Dark Thirty. Apparently, the rest of the cast is, in real life, genuinely skilled in martial arts and stunts, and a brief supplement on the film’s DVD release shows how sincere they were in the making of King of Killers and in their respective combat crafts—Moussi, though not much of an actor, enthusiastically helped design the fight sequences.
At just 88 minutes, King of Killers moves along at a well enough pace, but when there are lulls in the film it can be as lifeless as so many corpses strewn across the floor. Its dialogue is often atrocious—grating lines like “Death is just a part of life” and “I have nothing to hide and everything to lose” are spoken within less than two minutes of each other—and even though its action is capable, it routinely strains believability (most of the assassins are remarkably poor shots given their chosen line of work). “I knew it was gonna be you,” Drakos says when Marcus emerges as the last one standing, which really shouldn’t be much of a spoiler, and the concluding twist isn’t all that surprising either, though its obvious sequel setup is a little presumptuous. With a few laudable traits to its credit, King of Killers is hardly the worst film ever made, but there’s a reason why it was relegated to a home release and why many reading this will have never heard of it.
Jeremy Carr is a Contributing Editor at Film International and teaches film studies at Arizona State University. He writes for the publications Cineaste, Senses of Cinema, MUBI/Notebook, Cinema Retro, Vague Visages, The Retro Set, The Moving Image, Diabolique Magazine and Fandor. He is the author of Repulsion (1965) from Auteur Publishing and a contributor to the collections ReFocus: The Films of Elaine May, from Edinburgh University Press, and David Fincher’s Zodiac: Cinema of Investigation and (Mis)Interpretation, from Fairleigh Dickinson University Press.