Originally published 6/3/2005
Unleashed
Director Louis Leterrier
Writer: Luc Besson
Producers: Luc Besson, Steven Chasman, Jet Li
Stars: Jet Li, Morgan Freeman, Bob Hoskins, Kerry Condon
The prolific Luc Besson attempts with many of his films to strike a balance by presenting an outlandish scenario, then taking it a step or two more seriously than you’d expect, though not so seriously that you feel constrained from a grin. Producing and writing, he assembles a good mix of ingredients in Unleashed, not pandering or shortchanging in his depiction of the awkward process by which a tortured and repressed soul starts to discover itself, but also keeping the violence and style coming and giving each performer room to do what they do best.
For Jet Li, playing “Danny the Dog” (the movie’s title outside of North America), it means adding a new wrinkle to his already legendarily-malleable martial arts repertoire. Compare the serene, fluid grace he showed in Hero with the savage intensity he conjures here. For Bob Hoskins, as his loan shark owner/master/“uncle” Bart, it means calling on the crazy intensity which has immortalized him in the circles of the British crime films even as American audiences have mostly known him for affable supporting roles.
For Morgan Freeman, playing blind piano tuner Sam, it means projecting the quiet dignity and homely wisdom with which he operates best. I have long appreciated the way Freeman seems to embrace his function in most Hollywood movies as the injection of gravitas. His dark pool eyes and rich syrupy baritone are like the garnish on the plate which makes your meal look more grown-up, whether he is calmly pronouncing the destruction of life as we know it via comet in Deep Impact, convincing us he really believes Keanu Reeves is an expert on cold fusion in Chain Reaction, or, here, teaching simple decency to a kung-fu master raised as a dog.
Unleashed is about the journey of Danny from Bart’s influence to Sam’s, and how in that process he re-discovers humanity and the secrets of his past. He also gets into a lot of bloody fights.
Bart runs his territory by simple rules – when you owe him money, he comes around each week with Danny (who he has raised and trained since childhood) in tow. Danny’s got a collar on and is docile as can be. If you do not pay, Bart takes off the collar, and Danny, without a twinge, will beat to death anyone Bart points out.
Danny has earned a reputation around the underbelly of Glasgow, and Bart is just becoming aware of the profit-making potential of finding new arenas to exploit Danny’s skills, like throwing him into underground death-matches and wagering on his victories. But a twist of fate separates them, and a wounded, confused Danny finds himself in Sam’s care.
The major turns of the story from here you can likely hash out for yourselves, but it is the details that will surprise you. Sam cares for a gawky but vivacious teenager (Kerry Condon), a daughter from a previous marriage by his now-dead wife – this convolution is likely meant to explain the racial difference between her and Sam but also reinforces that this family unit is more about love and reliance between people who fall into each other’s care than genetics. She is a piano prodigy and, while Sam is teaching Danny the grown-up things like decency and morals, she is introducing him to equally important life elements like ice cream, and having enough fun that you end up late for dinner. You might think you know where their relationship is going, and you will be surprised.
You will also soon learn not to get attached to particular plot strands, as many get dropped once they have served one particular purpose, while others appear with scant explanation. This is Besson and director Louis Leterrier’s sense of joyful abandon (also on display in the more-fun-than-it-had-any-right-to-be action throwaway The Transporter), willing to play loose with logic in order to relish more time in the grimy Glasgow underworld, or create another opportunity for Danny to scrap.
The fights are staged by Yuen Wo-Ping, whose work on the Matrix trilogy, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Kill Bill and other fight-heavy hits have made him arguably the first box-office draw from the choreographers’ ranks since Busby Berkeley. And once again he does not disappoint, providing clashes that do not merely expend time, but have shape and pacing and furious (but impeccably comprehensible) movement to them. One clash has Danny in a vicious one-on-one for several minutes inside a cramped and narrow bathroom, and you begin to think that neither participant is making any move to leave because it is too much fun to exercise their skills in this novel environment.
The joy is not right out on the surface in Unleashed – it has a serious story to tell, and much of the middle of the movie is carried not by Li’s martial arts skills, but by his tricky portrayal of a man of few words learning how to trust and express himself. It’s more winning than you would expect, and sometimes funnier, too. American audiences tend not to think of Jet Li as someone with comedic charms, but he gets to demonstrate them here.
That is where the joy lies; because everyone gets to take part in something which sounds quite preposterous in summary, but gives them room to exercise their talents to the fullest, and gets us to think beyond that summary and enjoy ourselves just by opening up our willingness to be entertained.