It’s 1977 in Detroit, and apparently, no one can talk.
That’s the gimmick behind director Potsy Ponciroli’s film Motor City, which had its North American premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival on Thursday night.
And to an extent, the gambit works. It is a true testament to the filmmaking and the story that unfolds. What starts as a gritty action flick intent on becoming a vengeance marathon à la John Wick, turns into a heartfelt sucker punch featuring Alan Ritchson in a defining role.
Motor City begins with Ritchson’s everyman character, John Miller, carrying a legless body, immediately sucking you in. Why is that man’s leg chopped off? Did he torture him? Why did he shoot that car using a wedding ring? And without any word spoken, it makes it all the more intriguing. And then the silence continues.
Aside from a brief acknowledgement from John in the first scenes, you might think he’s mute. Even when he gets down to propose to his girlfriend, Sophia (Shailene Woodley), who we only learn from her waitress name tag, John remains silent.
It’s only in her reaction that she speaks, and it becomes a recurring theme that people only talk in moments of passion- except when they don’t. On a first watch, who speaks and when does not seem to follow a string of logic. And it can be jarring at times that two people are not talking, when in reality, 99% of the population would at least make some kind of noise.
But that’s such a minor issue in the grand scheme, because removing this typical storytelling device helps deepen the connection in the story. It’s a perfect showcase of “show, don’t tell,” perhaps with the exception of the soundtrack featuring the likes of Fleetwood Mac’s “That Chain” and a dozen other tracks to help lighten the load on the actors.
For that matter, Ritchson will forever be connected to Jack Reacher, but he truly stands out on a more eloquent level here, needing to be more than just some brooding force that Ben Foster unwisely decided to poke a fight with. And no surprise, Foster is also exquisite as a druglord who’s also battling for Sophia’s affection.
The two go toe-to-toe in a more metaphorical sense than physical, aside from a daring finale that pulls off two of the most unique fight sequences in recent memory. Ponciroli certainly knows how to frame a fight in an elevator and a convertible.
And Motor City perhaps wisely never goes full-John Wick here. Ritchson’s John is never shown to be a perfect fighting machine. He’s absolutely able to be stopped, and he gets brutally injured throughout.
Yet, for all that works here, Motor City never fully justifies the trick. There’s no reason given why Ritchson and his astounding cast don’t talk. But maybe it doesn’t need to justify it? Just enjoy the ride and you won’t be sorry.
For a movie that was originally attached to a B-movie director, it certainly is not a B-movie.
