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Glossing over the Coen's filmography confirms my immediate sentiment after finishing Inside Llewyn Davis. I have never been moved by one of their films. That is not what they do. They craft tales that shy the beaten path, fill them with semi-human characters and embrace the style they are working in wholeheartedly.
Inside Llewyn Davis has all the hallmarks of a Coen film. With one trump up its sleeve causing me to allow this film to grip me, shake me…
Keanu Reeves as John Wick, a grieving widower who finds comfort in a sweet puppy dog named Daisy. The comfort is short lived when a gang of thugs makes the worst mistake of their lives. The mistake? They killed the wrong badass motherfucker's dog. That critical error wakes up the sleeping killing machine inside of John Wick and he goes all Point Break Speed Matrix on the Russian Mafia and everyone else that's in his way in this action packed…
No central character.
No defined purpose for side characters.
No three acts.
No internal references.
No political polemical voice.
One of the best films ever made.