By Kai Curry
NORTHWEST ASIAN WEEKLY
Most movies about Hawai’i make me want to go back. Not “The Wrecking Crew.” Streaming on Prime Video on Jan. 28, “The Wrecking Crew” stars would-be power duo, Jason Momoa and Dave Bautista, as two brothers trying to solve their dad’s murder. Sadly, there are just too many inconsistencies in the movie to make it enjoyable to me, and the pairing of Momoa and Bautista doesn’t pan out into the five-star buddy movie that producers no doubt hoped for.
Johnny (Jason Momoa, left) and James (Dave Bautista, right) share a moment. Courtesy of Prime. Copyright Amazon Content Services LLC.
I admire Momoa’s efforts lately (and always, with himself as the example) to spotlight Pacific Islander culture. There is his epic TV show set in Hawai’i, “Chief of War,” and now there is “The Wrecking Crew,” which takes place mainly on and around the island of Oahu. What I hope “The Wrecking Crew” does is exaggerate the seedy aspects of Honolulu and Waikiki in the same way it exaggerates the muscles and the personalities of Momoa and Bautista. But I have no idea. I haven’t been back in years. Although there is the occasional paradisiacal beach scene, it’s more often than not despoiled by the action or one of the characters (such as Momoa’s character, “Johnny,” burping and grimacing on a beach chair after having been drugged by local gangsters).
Not that there is anything wrong with that. Too often, the Pacific Islands are depicted only for their idyllic, touristy beauty. If “The Wrecking Crew” is a dose of reality about what it’s really like nowadays, I’m fine with that. The inconsistency of the film is that the reality doesn’t carry throughout all of its aspects. Momoa plays a “rez cop” in Oklahoma, estranged from his family and supposedly from his culture, even though everything in his house calls back to the Islands. I’ve never seen anyone decorate with this much cultural concentration (exaggeration one). Momoa’s “Johnny” is the scruffiest cop you have ever seen, surely not within regulations, and is on administrative leave for “excessive force”—which is totally understandable from the get-go.
Bautista plays “James,” Johnny’s half-brother, who lives on Oahu. Like Johnny, James has a job in the arena of violence, and service, as a commander with the Navy Seals. On the plus side, there are Navy Seals stationed at Pearl Harbor Navy Base. And maybe, very close-call maybe, Bautista’s tattoos are in regulation, as those regulations have relaxed over the years. Bautista is mostly on point as the more straight-laced of the sibling duo, whose body art, gigantic muscles, and perpetual lockjaw point to a wild man underneath, just like his brother. Here’s the thing though, military folks aren’t supposed to wander into kink shops in uniform, especially not with their name badges still attached, and mess up staff, who are for no reason whatsoever giving them trouble about accessing some store video footage.
James (Dave Bautista, left) and Johnny (Jason Momoa, right) reunite unwillingly at their father’s funeral.Courtesy of Prime. Copyright Amazon Content Services LLC.
Bautista shows his wild side with words, initially. For example, a local detective tells him, when James comes seeking information about his father’s death, “Don’t poke a bear that doesn’t want to be poked.” James’ answer? “I’m the f**king bear.” He puts on a show of being the good son, or at least the less f-ed up one, but he’s really off the hinge as much as his brother. Johnny, in contrast, shows his wild side very much with action. A soft soul, probably, he’s an alcoholic who carries a lot of anger over the death of his mother and the rift between him and James. When we first meet Johnny, he is accosted by some truly wacko Yakuza (exaggeration? I mean, they are WEIRD). While Air Supply plays in the background (cue romantic, nostalgic music + brutal violence trope, which btw works every damn time, no matter how cliché it is by now), Johnny gives these guys a major beat down, and he gets very creative. It’s funny until he takes out the cheese grater, Oh My Gawd. So there’s an inconsistency in the level of violence “The Wrecking Crew” is willing to show, when, and how. Sometimes it’s all out; other times, they cut away.
Let’s talk about those muscles. Momoa and Bautista are huge, and when together, they look like enormous killer robots. There is no way in any universe, except an alternate one, where everyone is buff-to-the-max, that these two guys could be overlooked anywhere, nor could they ever pull off an undercover operation in any way, shape, or form. Reality check. If these two guys walked into a room, every single person would turn and look. Momoa, as he often does, feels the need to tweak his outfits at all times to suit his eclectic bad boy taste, so even when he and James are supposed to be, say, in a prescribed uniform for a catering company, Johnny has his shirt open, and a t-shirt underneath, etc., etc. It is not within the realm of reality that security would not even bat an eye as these two walked past. Zero believability.
The seediness of the film, to return to that aspect, is also very exaggerated, or exaggeratedly highlighted. Much of the story takes place in the darker alleys and shops of the island. That’s to be expected, of course, as we are talking about the realm of gangsters and killers, and again, I really do praise an effort to show a different, and maybe even more well-rounded, view of Hawai’i, but do we really have to put the above-mentioned video footage onto a penis-shaped flash drive, and then hand this flash drive over to the above-mentioned detective? I get that the flash drive was picked up at the kink shop, yet I’m really not laughing. It’s just kinda dumb.
Here’s where the reality check is real and is a good thing. “The Wrecking Crew” brings up the pertinent concerns of native Hawaiians. I think that Johnny’s nod to working “on the rez” in Oklahoma is another part of this push to recognize indigenous populations in the U.S. As Johnny and James dig into the circumstances of their dad’s death, gradually and grudgingly aligning their efforts, they come upon evidence linked to sugar plantations, casino development (casinos are illegal in Hawai’i, but illegal gambling is very big money there), and native Hawaiian lands. They visit a proposed development site that is currently occupied by locals who call their settlement the Kingdom of Hawai’i. “Being here is about more than family by blood,” explains an auntie there. “It’s about ohana of community. That’s why we need to protect it.” Well, you just know this is going to come up again, and that’s for the better. This conflict between the original inhabitants of Hawai’i and ever-more encroaching developers and tourists should be a part of any movie that takes place there. It is daily, it is severe, and it is worthy of everyone’s attention.
“The Wrecking Crew” is a buddy movie that doesn’t coalesce. Momoa and Bautista, in my view, are both too big (in every way) on their own to work well as a team. I found myself looking from one to the other like a viewer at a tennis match, struggling to focus on both, wanting to pick a side, never quite doing so, and not in love with them as a unit, either. I love both actors and am of the opinion that this movie would have worked beautifully with just one of them, either one, along with another actor, a smaller actor (literally), who could deflect, take on the jobs requiring stealth and finesse, and also act as the glue that brings everything together. Maybe next time.
Kai can be reached at newstips@nwasianweekly.com.
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