Review: ‘Repo Men’ Is A Grab-Bag of Crazy-Ass Crazy With A Side Of Whaaa?

Law, as humorless and dry as ever, is Remy, an organ repossession agent in a not-too-distant future. We’re post-war, but pre-flying cars (probably due to the threat of the wrath of Ridley Scott and the Philip K. Dick estate, considering some of the set designs). A large-scale war pushed the country into a horrible recession (science fiction!), allowing for the rise of The Union, a company dedicated to building state-of-the-art mechanical organs that have become not only life-saving devices, but for some also choice accessories. When a client can’t pay in full, however, Law arrives at their doorstep, a limber Grim Reaper armed with a bag of makeshift surgical materials and hand-to-hand combat skill allowing a minimum of damage to the organ, though not necessarily to its temporary owner.

Post-war, Law signed up eagerly for the Union, but lately, it’s weighing down on his suburban family life. He rarely sees his son, and his shrewish wife (“Black Book“‘s gorgeous Carice Van Houten in an unfortunate American accent) wants to distance herself from her husband’s ghoulish profession, and especially Remy’s gregarious blue collar partner Jake (Forest Whitaker). Enter the RZA.

The hip-hop impresario has only a minor role, but it’s his scene that defines the film’s flawed ambition, irrelevant topicality and ungainly mixture of sly humor and deadly seriousness. As a legendary music producer long indebted to The Union, Remy knows extracting his past-due heart may finally provide an early retirement. Again casually breaking and entering (portions of “Repo Men” have a filmed-in-Canada stink, and all the unlocked suburban doors only cement that), Remy finds the beat-maker huddled over a soundboard. After a brief discussion of the inevitable, the producer quietly boasts that the song he’s currently adjusting will be his final hit, his eyes glazing over thanks to a pile of cocaine and the listless acceptance of fate.

Remy uncharacteristically lets his guard down, revealing that he’s actually a fan of his target’s work. If there’s anything less likely than Law’s Remy being lifelong friends with romper-room ruffian Jake, it’s the idea that this humorless prig actually follows mainstream neo-soul producers. Like the rest of the film’s music choices, the track the producer is crafting is a throwback, a Bobby Womack-sounding piece with a mellow back-beat that Remy is entranced by (he even unconvincingly begins to mouth the words). The film’s source material is the novel “Reposession Mambo,” and is appropriately scored with retro ballroom numbers, though we don’t learn the significance of this until far into the third act. When Remy snaps back into action, a glitch in his hardware knocks him cold, but not before the scene closes with a Guy Ritchie-esque freeze-frame and flashback to the various other TKOs of Remy’s adult life, somehow equating the chronicles of his bad fortune with the drama at hand.

The surgery needed for Remy’s recuperation is provided by The Union, who grant him a new heart and a characteristically impatient payment plan Remy can’t meet. After The Union can only offer the grumblings of a bottom-line-watching exec (a fast and funny Liev Schreiber, essentially cameo-ing), Remy goes on the lam with a cabaret singer (Alice Braga) almost entirely made up of Union organs. At this point, our hero has realized others deserve to have a second chance at providing for their families when their bodies give out. Or something like that. His spiritual awakening isn’t entirely clear, as he’s sick of acting as a repo man, but not opposed to shoving a knife in the throat of the average joes he used to call co-workers, now tasked with retrieving his overdue heart. Remy is galvanized by his single-minded mission to take down The Union, and “Repo Men” easily falls into those action hero cliches where our protagonist declares he “has a plan,” and it turns out the plan is essentially “karate chop everybody.”

“Repo Men” seems to have accidental topicality, and in mixing that with high-end action sequences, there’s certainly a serviceable time-waster present, one that sufficiently declines in nuance and character as the screenwriters can’t resist piling contrivances on top of one another, as if they don’t trust viewers to find the actual human conflict of the film compelling. The Union is merely another greedy capitalist corporation but while Schreiber’s mischievous performance places a human face on the company, a later scene that feels like a “Logan’s Run” outtake reveals their minions to be personality-less lazer-shooting stormtroopers. Jake, meanwhile, can’t just be Remy’s old friend-turned-pursuer, he has to have a bigger picture on his mind. “Repo Men” unfortunately has no qualms becoming a assembly-line shoot-em-up.

The greatest compliment you can pay Universal and Mr. Sapotchnik is that they really go for it in the climax. The film’s conclusion is a schizophrenic mixture of disparate elements, almost feeling like three seperate endings shot specifically for the DVD stitched back together to form a Frankenstein climax for three times the whiplash. (Very mild spoilers, but look out) In the first, an extended homage to “Oldboy,” Remy takes on a sea of suits in an improbable action showdown that is superficially a xerox of Chan Wook-Park‘s propulsive hallway set-piece but effective enough thanks to the unorthodox scoring of UNKLE‘s “Burn My Shadow.” The second, and far more outlandish set piece, involves an erotic tango reminiscient of Robbie Williams‘ grotesque breakthrough video “Rock DJ,” an unforgettable finale guaranteed to send people out of the theater in an erotic S&M-fueled haze. And then the third, well… it’s an old favorite, but one we don’t expect any film has the gall to pull anymore, and while it feels like a sucker punch, it works as a superficially downbeat way to end a film, and yet also a confident one.

“Repo Men,” which sadly has no relation to the Alex Cox film of a similar name, sags plenty, and is most likely guilty of adapting (from the book) or inventing far too many subplots and tangents to pay off – (the worst being the memoir Remy inexplicably begins writing during his exile, though there are several other candidates). In addition to that punch-drunk ending, however, the film’s mileage varies depending on which star is taking up the screen. Most serious actors take parts in genre efforts like “Repo Men” for the same reason many middle-aged dads pierce their earlobes and listen to rap. Few, however, have the dimensions brought to the film by Whitaker.

Despite a significant reputation as a serious thespian and an Oscar on the mantelpiece, Whitaker isn’t afraid to shake up his image, even going so far as to starring in more than a few of those aforementioned silly straight-to-DVD pictures. Given a stock best-friend role, Whitaker infuses his character with a surprising depth, adding a layer of uncertainty to his macho bravado. When he sees his repo target usurped by Remy in the middle of a brawl, Jake reprimands his friend jokingly, complaining that he already had the drop on his assailant. It’s his affected hunchback and cracking voice in this scene that suggests not only his pride is hurt, but that his disappointment in his best friend has begun to peak in the midst of a natural panic over the loss of a paycheck, all covered by multiple layers of self-deprecating humor most likely not found on the page. If we’re entering Phase Two of Leading Man Jude Law, he’s had excellent taste in co-stars. [B-]