Posted on Tuesday, September 26th, 2017 by Jacob Hall
Allow me to thumb my suspenders and clear the kids off my lawn before I break out this old cliche, but they don’t make ’em like this much anymore.
Wheelman may represent the shifting cinematic landscape of 2017 – it was produced by Netflix and will skip theaters and arrive directly on the streaming service next month – but it’s a straightforward, simple, muscular, and blissfully old school thriller that, much like its leading man, feels like it escaped from 1974. But even when this crime-gone-wrong movie traffics in familiar beats, it does so with a slick confidence and calm-under-fire grace. Making a movie that feels this cool (this effortlessly cool) sometimes feels like a lost art. This is the kind of hardened, macho, dizzyingly entertaining crime movie that gets in, does its job, and gets out without wasting a single second of your precious time. You get the sense that Wheelman respects you, the audience member: it’s not here to beat around the bush. Like a great getaway driver, its focus is squarely on delivering the goods.