Martin Blank’s biggest problem is that he’s far too
intelligent, introspective and philosophical for his profession. Sure, it’s
served him well for a few years after a stint in the army and a government job,
but now that he’s been invited to his ten year high school reunion, he’s
beginning to question his path in life. Was he right when he stood up his high
school girlfriend on prom night and disappeared without a trace? Does he want
more from life than simply to be a professional killer?
Yes, Martin Blank, played so congenially and mysteriously
by John Cusack, is a hit man in the dark satire comedy Grosse Pointe Blank. He’s got no real moral compunction about killing
people. If I show up at your door, chances are you did something to bring me
there, he rationalizes. His therapist (Alan Arkin), who doesn’t want to treat
him anymore knowing what he is, thinks it will be good for him to go home. So
does his assistant Marcella (Joan Cusack), who finds it “amusing that [Martin]
came from somewhere,” which illustrates an interesting point – professional killers
all grew up somewhere and were at one time angsty teenagers. We don’t often get
admitted to that part of the story.
Conveniently, he’s got a contract for a job in his home
town of Grosse Pointe, Michigan, so he can kill two birds with one stone, so to
speak. Also in town is his professional rival, Grocer (Dan Aykroyd), who is
trying to put together a union for their profession. Martin prefers the lone
gunman lifestyle. Why would someone in such an anti-establishment profession
want to be part of a totally establishment collective? Grocer wants Martin out
of the way, so he’s tipped off the Feds to Martin’s contract on a Federal
whistleblower. And there’s an additional guy roaming the streets who’s there
just to cause problems and add more nihilistic chaos to Martin’s life.
But foremost on Martin’s mind is Debbie (Minnie Driver),
the girl he left behind all those years ago. She’s still in town and has her
own radio show. Martin drives by the station to watch and listen. Later he asks
her to go as his date to the reunion. Is he a reliable date? Of course she
doesn’t know what he does. There’s an amusing running gag that has Martin
telling people straight out what he does for a living, but they all think he’s
being ironic and play along with the joke: “Good for you. It’s a growth
industry;” “Do you have to do post-graduate work for that or can you just jump
right in?”
Martin spends a lot of time reflecting on himself and how
to relate to the people from his past. One of the first things he does when
he’s back in town is visit his old high school. He bumps into one of teachers
and has politely awkward conversation. Of course this is one of the first
things we used to do during our first year or two away at college on a visit
home. Martin comes to it about 8 or 9 years too late. This is another funny
repetitive theme as he continues to return to places that were once familiar. He
goes to his old locker and digs out a crumbly old joint. He tries to visit his
childhood home and finds, to his great shock and dismay, that it’s been turned
into an Ultimart and he accosts the clerk, “What are you doing here?” He promptly phones his psychiatrist and leaves a
voicemail for him, “We can never go home again.” That line is Martin’s
conundrum. He’s been gone for ten years yet he wants things to go back to the
normal he experienced before. When you disappear from a place for an extended
period of time you sort of want and even expect that everything will remain the
same. Places don’t get frozen in time except in our own minds. Part of Martin’s
growth as a character is learning that unfortunate truth.
The success of the film really stems less from director
George Armitage than from the screenplay by Cusack, Steve Pink, Tom Jankiewicz,
and D.V. DeVincentis, which is packed with witty dialogue, rarely relying on
throwaway one-liners. Highlights include the initial meeting between Martin and
Grocer as they circle each other suspiciously, each ready to draw a weapon on
the other if they sense a threatening move; and an encounter with an old
classmate, a drunken lout who finds a hilarious outlet for his unchecked
aggression. But the story functions because of the easy chemistry between
Cusack and Driver. They readily convey a sense of history between Martin and
Debbie as well as the feeling that they can almost pick up where they left off,
if only Debbie’s hurt feelings weren’t getting in the way.
The small action set pieces are Armitage’s biggest
contribution as director. There’s a shootout in a convenience store and a swift
and brutal hand-to-hand combat sequence, allowing Cusack to show off his
kickboxing skills acquired through his involvement with Say Anything… in 1989, that are well-shot and executed. The big
climax, the final confrontation that brings all the elements together, is a
shootout in Debbie’s house. It’s fun and comical and violent, but it feels like
an insufficient finale to a film that, prior to that scene, was more interested
in staying off the beaten path rather than following the action movie formula
guide of closing with an elaborate spectacle. Regardless, it’s not enough to
detract heavily from one of my favorite light distractions of the 90s.
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