3 Days to Kill

3 Days to Kill

Kevin Costner remains beyond the reach of Director McG and producer Luc Besson no matter how hard they tried. This Means War helmer and the creator of Taken, Transporter and Taxi series, these two have thrown an old action star into a live-action cartoon that can be pretty cynical but is now so cliché that its ostensible quirkiness has become another cliché; yet, Costner suspends a relaxed self-respect and simple humanity in his performance. So it becomes kind of messy or even foolish film than it should ever be.

From its very beginning you will guess what kind of crap “Kill” it is overdetermined, overblown, overdesigned type one example being an EuroTrash action movie. One with explosions almost as loud as those which make people deaf for life and a villain who looks like he stepped out of Saturday Night Live’s parody on some Prada ad campaign. Amidst the sound and fury of opening battle however, Costner is still stolidly solid.

He learns then that he has cancer “at stage three”, with only three months to live. His attending physician tells him: “The C.I.A. thanks you for your service.” Yes. Acting on advice to get his affairs in order, Costner’s character (who does not speak French) goes to his flat in Paris which happens to be occupied by a family of Africans whom he attempts to deal with Clint Eastwood-style (but doesn’t), after which he tracks down his estranged wife and estranged teenage daughter.

“Promise me one thing,” says estranged wife Connie Nielsen. “Promise me you’re not working for them anymore.” And indeed, Costner agrees. Shortly thereafter Amber Heard appears again a mysterious figure from the opening scene like she just stepped out of a Tex Avery cartoon short but this time her role was played up throughout as if she had just come off such a film and she is now offering him a cure for his cancer if he will, yes, work for “them” again and this time around go after bad guys named “The Wolf” and “The Albino.” His new mission coincides with a getting to know you period between father and daughter.

Which may include such things as Costner’s character torturing various small-time criminals while asking them what is the best way to bring up children. This is the key comic set piece of the movie’ scenario, and it is quite uncomfortable.

A movie that has too much going on inane specifics at one time, but likes to extensively beat all its nearly funny lines into the ground (like what follows when Costner’s daughter sets Icona Pop’s “I Don’t Care” as his cell phone ringtone for her), so when it halts dead for an intimate father-daughter moment in front of Sacre Coeur, it feels slightly awkward at first. In other words, what the fuck is this; Die Hard meets Amelie? And yet, since Hailee Steinfeld from True Grit actually makes an utterly lovable daughter, while Costner does his very best Gary Cooper throughout the whole scene; hence being quite effective.

In these and other ways, the movie is built around a series of predictable events that are sometimes absurd (like when “The Wolf” says to one of his henchmen, “Take me to my partner’s house, he will know how to get me out of Paris,” you know who the partner will turn out to be even though you don’t really believe it).

Costner deserves more respect; the fact that he does not sleepwalk through this film suggests that he thinks maybe so do you. Another thing worth mentioning is how good the film looks; Thierry Arbogast has been a long-time Besson partner (he even worked with him when he was at his best, as in “The Fifth Element”) which explains why the familiar Paris locales look golden and sepia toned.

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