The Continental: From the World of John Wick

We can say that director Albert Hughes (the first and last episodes) and Charlotte Brandstorm (the second one) keep the action and storyline lean and mean, and the body count high, allowing us to soak up every second of these 90ish-minute episodes. Wick devotees will walk away satisfied.

It’s fast-paced, ludicrous fun, with Purge-star Woodell full of dapper charm as the young McShane. But, for better or worse, the driving force is Gibson, who puts in his most over-the-top appearance since Mad Max. In the process, he transforms The Continental into a bug-eyed, b-movie cheese-fest hewn in his gonzo image.

We arguably didn’t need a detailed backstory for McShane’s leathery innkeep, and much of the High Table’s more intriguing aspects are left frustratingly in the wings (a lone Adjudicator is our main link to the broader mythology), but with guns (lots of them), charm and buckets of style, The Continental is proof that John Wick is more than just a man.

It’s all style at best, and no substance—even for a series that prioritizes bravura and flair over everything else. Ultimately, “The Continental” is an adequate detour; just a linear connection-of-franchise dots explaining how Winston stole the keys to the house.

While the payoff is ultimately well worth it, a much tighter story might have been told within the usual 60 minutes.

As a pure continuation of John Wick lore, The Continental is a worthy watch, one that offers similar bloody mayhem to its predecessors in a new, wide-lapelled outfit. But it’s hard not to feel that the show, with its leaden pacing, convoluted cast of characters, and lack of a nucleus in a powerhouse figure like Reeves, comes up short compared to the film series it desperately wants to evoke.

The Continental knows its target audience of action junkies who grew up renting Van Damme or Chuck Norris movies every weekend for a short, sharp hit. Like Wick himself, it does the job efficiently and with a dash of wit: all killer and considerably less filler.

Though it seems more a test of concept than a complete saga, it’s a tentatively successful one — though with one major misstep that’ll be enough to ruin the whole experiment for many.

You know whether you like this sort of thing — and I am guessing that if you do — you will like this particular interaction just fine.

Sleek, violent, middlingly fun, mired in impenetrable mythology and in sore need of a Keanu Reeves infusion. You hate to throw around terms like “cash grab" because it doesn’t feel like that. But it doesn’t feel entirely not like that, either.

As a bruising and bullet-ridden retro tale, its aim is true. And if you love the hits of the '70s, get ready for all your favorite needle drops. But as an essential addition to the “Wick” canon, “The Continental” is more of a misfire.

It’s serviceable. Even with Mel Gibson involved, it’s not bad enough to hurt the John Wick franchise, but it’s also not exciting enough to justify becoming a key part of the canon.

Aside from lacking the pacing, grandiosity, or general action junkie intoxication of any “John Wick” movie, “The Continental” lacks their disarming cool most of all.

John Wick completists interested in a look at how Winston and Charon met and why Winston may have made some of the choices he did in the films have enough to keep them engaged, but there’s no doubt a better way to realize this world on the small screen than the scattershot, half-hearted execution of The Continental.

Despite no shortage of action, “The Continental” finally feels short on firepower.

Gone are any of the movies' trademark sense of wry humor, tongue-in-cheek winks and nods, or basically any other humanizing emotion that prevented this franchise from taking itself way too seriously. In its place is a dour, poorly-lit, and oftentimes humorless slog that makes viewers feel every second of each episode's roughly 90-minute runtime.

It stumbles toward an inept, non-ending, where there’s plenty of story still to tell if a successful run demands more seasons, yet not enough resolution to make what you just saw feel meaningful.

Despite being only three episodes long, The Continental is a slog that’s bogged down by poor characterization, brutal pacing, and extended droughts from its shootouts.

The Continental feels like it’s more for John Wick completists than fans of well-plotted action series.

There isn’t a lot that needs saying about the wan, prosaic “The Continental,” which loads incident and exposition into its four and a half hours (over three feature-length episodes) but still feels formless and indistinct. The main culprit is probably the writing.

The sheer numbers [of characters] can’t obscure how flat most of these characters and performances are, and what a slog The Continental can be whenever fists, feet, and bullets aren’t flying. And in the process, these three episodes serve as a reminder that all the “gun fu” of the films would ring hollow if we weren’t already invested in Reeves and John Wick.

The Continental feels afraid to go all-out, limiting itself to a few thrilling action sequences whose creativity makes the sparse character motivations and drawn-out plot that much more belabored.

A three-part prequel that gives franchise fans everything they want save for a charismatic marquee lead, interesting and exciting bloodshed, or characters and lore worth paying attention to for an extended period of time.

"The Continental" leaves us with the impression of opportunity wasted, along with a sinking feeling of having been hoodwinked into spending time with a celebrity upon whom Hollywood refuses to render a verdict of excommunicado.

Of all the reasons the “John Wick” prequel frustrates, underwhelms and disappoints, the involvement of Mel Gibson barely manages to rank.