Director: Christian Gudegast
Writer: Christian Gudegast
Stars: Gerard Butler, O’Shea Jackson Jr, Evin Ahmad
Synopsis: Big Nick is back on the hunt in Europe and closing in on Donnie, who is embroiled in the treacherous world of diamond thieves and the infamous Panther mafia, as they plot a massive heist of the world’s largest diamond exchange.
It feels impossible that Den of Thieves 2: Pantera is Christian Gudegast’s second feature. This is the type of stuff you’d see from someone who had, perhaps, ten motion pictures under their belt and decided that it’s finally time to play around with form and breathe new life into the stale sub-genre of heist motion pictures. The first Den of Thieves was not only a pleasant surprise for an individual, like yours truly, who isn’t a fan of Gerard Butler’s current career trajectory but one of the ten best films of 2018. It’s first and foremost a sharply constructed character piece before it eventually morphs into a heist thriller, but not before sitting with Butler’s “Big Nick” O’Brien and contemplating how his professional choices bring him no personal rewards.
Gudegast doesn’t reinvent the wheel of heist cinema with Den of Thieves, but he certainly knows how to construct a meticulously-developing bravura setpiece that eventually culminates in a thrilling road shootout worthy of Michael Mann’s Heat. Once this occurs, Big Nick begins to realize the extent of the heist, and how each antagonist had a reason to be here. He begins to wonder if this chase was all worth it for him. The adrenaline rush of toppling a legitimate den of thieves cost him his marriage and any form of “personal life” he had with his children. This is a man who isn’t satisfied by an ordinary life and would rather chase a high that punishes him the most. By doing what he admittedly “loves,” which is acting like a total scumbag to lure criminals in his “circle,” he further distances himself from the people he should theoretically love the most.
Watching him on this endless rut of accomplishing futile goals that reward him professionally with no real, meaningful personal benefits is punishing. Gudegast doesn’t give the audience easy answers. And he doesn’t depict an easy protagonist to follow. Deep down, he wants to spend more time with his kids and family, but there’s also the next job. And the next one. And the next one. And the next one. It never ends. And it will never end.
It’s a path of self-destruction strikingly conveyed by a career-best turn from Butler, who channels the inner turmoil of some of Peter Mullan’s best and most profound roles, such as in Paddy Considine’s Tyrannosaur or Ken Loach’s My Name is Joe. These are vastly different movies than Den of Thieves. Yet, Nick’s sullen face reminded me a lot of how Mullan would modulate his character’s imploding emotions just in how he looked at the camera in moments of pure vulnerability.
In Den of Thieves 2: Pantera, it’s unsurprising that we reunite with Nick at his most vulnerable: he’s finalizing the divorce. In the courthouse bathroom, he holds his papers in the mouth and immediately throws them away. Unable to dry his hands, he has a fit of rage and breaks the malfunctioning hand dryer. We assume he’s lost complete custody of his kids, which is eventually implied when Jovanna (Evin Ahmad) asks him if he has any later in the movie. He quickly replies, “No,” when we know this is a lie. Why is he so afraid of telling the truth? Is it because he regrets building a family that he quickly ignored because he was too busy building a reputation as Los Angeles’ “toughest cop”?
Gudegast doesn’t have the answers to these questions, yet further develops Nick’s aching loneliness as he reunites with Donnie Wilson (O’Shea Jackson Jr.), the thief who evaded his purview during the climax of the 2018 film. After successfully robbing the Federal Reserve, he has his sights set on the World Diamond Center, which has never been accomplished before. It could be the heist of the century if it is successfully pulled off. And Nick will join him along the way. After finding his trail after so long, why suddenly drop the professional life he built so meticulously to become a master thief? This question will be revealed during the film’s intimidating 144-minute runtime, which is purposefully structured in two distinct halves.
The first hour and twenty minutes or so is dedicated entirely to exposition on how they will perform the heist. Gudegast will also devote time to developing a closer bond between Nick and Donnie after they clashed in the original. The pace may feel lethargic, but it’s never boring. Gudegast fills this section with moments of intimacy so overwhelming it’s hard to watch Den of Thieves 2 with a distanced eye. We feel so close to Nick that we eventually care about him, regardless of how terrible of a person he may be. One even forgets, by watching those moments, that we wanted to see an action blockbuster and paid a ticket for such. But if one actively engages with what Butler does in the movie, they will ultimately be rewarded in seeing the actor at his most open and personal, something he has not done before donning the mantra of Big Nick.
In a key sequence during the film’s first half, Nick accidentally trips on ecstasy and begins to open up in ways his repressed, sober self never does. Even while drunk or under the influence, he isn’t as powerless as he is here. The scene is a pivotal point in the relationship between Nick and Donnie and a pure shock to the system. We finally realize what kind of a person Nick is deep down the layers of “machismo” he attempts (but fails) to convey in front of people when clean. He wants to show how “tough” he always is, how he always gets the last laugh, and perhaps even dominate conversations so that no one can even know what to respond (“The food here sucks. We come here for the ass.”) One can see how lonely and meaningless his existence has become after losing his family, which he tries to brush off continuously, but perhaps it’s always been this way.
It’s in those moments where Den of Thieves 2: Pantera shines the most. Gudegast’s patient runtime allows for a greater connection with the protagonists, who are in far deeper trouble than they thought when realizing they stole a diamond from the Italian mafia. Butler is, once again, doing career-best work by further refining what he laid out in the first movie. Because Gudegast’s writing allows a deeper dive into the scumbag that is Big Nick, Butler can have a bit more fun and also showcase even more cracks that live within the character. He also shares note-perfect chemistry with O’Shea Jackson Jr, whose subtle comedic touches add levity at just the right moment when tension begins to ramp up.
In the film’s second half, Gudegast stages another elaborate heist, which is far more thrilling than the one depicted in the first installment. The 2018 film was Gudegast’s attempt at channeling Heat. It worked, though nothing can – or will – top Mann’s film (unless he decides to make Heat 2). Gudegast understands this, which is why he shifts gears and gives us a spin on Steven Soderbergh’s Ocean’s Trilogy. Some will argue that the first also had these Soderberghian flourishes (notably in how Donnie acts like Casey Affleck’s Virgil Malloy), but the constant confrontation between Nick and Pablo Schreiber’s Ray Merrimen is pure McCauley/Hanna.
But this doesn’t stop Gudegast from tipping the hat to Mann in the movie’s sole action set piece, a bravura highway chase where multiple cars attempt to shoot off Nick and Donnie. This time, though, it’s Miami Vice meets Ferrari. It’s also the adrenaline rush the movie needs before heading to a more plot-heavy section that sets things in motion for the potential third installment. That part felt a bit unnecessarily overlong, a bit like Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (no joke!), but what comes before is a sturdy exercise in craft and tension-building.
The final shootout of Den of Thieves 2: Pantera is a true feat to behold and what the big screen desperately craves. Again, it doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but is so impeccably constructed that one wonders why Gudegast hasn’t been doing movies long before the first Den of Thieves. Few filmmakers working in Hollywood have an eye for action anymore. It’s all the same stale CGI junk, or headache-inducing shaky cam, with no real point of reference for the viewers to hold onto and see what’s on screen.
In one simple action scene, Gudegast teaches all of us how the camera should be positioned (he seems to be a fan of handheld over-the-shoulder shots, which are strikingly cut together inside a moving vehicle) and how the editing should respond to the different camera placements. The result is a shockingly cathartic set piece that may rank high at the end of the year as one of the best examples of how visual storytelling can move a film forward in ways few seemingly understand.
While Den of Thieves 2: Pantera ultimately ends in clunky, neverending sequel bait, what comes before is a true masterwork in the examination of its troubled protagonist before delivering a palm-sweating, edge-of-your-seat heist that’s as good as what Soderbergh stages in his Ocean’s pictures. It’s almost miraculous that Lionsgate would allow him to spend over an hour and ten minutes of his two and a half hour runtime on one single heist, but it’s now what the franchise is the most known for. Patient character building. A meticulous heist. An explosive ending. And it works.
Gudegast also takes his time to develop the arc of Big Nick into not one of redemption, but salvation. After this part of his life is over, a police officer tells him he should be relieved to return home. To which he replies, “To what?” He’s lost everything. He has nothing to return to. And no matter what he does next, all he does is dig himself in a deeper hole he may never find the courage to crawl on top of. Once we realize this, Den of Thieves 2 becomes more than just a thrilling heist picture, but an astute character study on a broken man past the point of repair.
Will he ever attain salvation? Because he’s past the point of retribution. Those bridges are burned. They can never be repaired. What can he do next but continue looking the other way and digging himself into more trouble than he already was? Is that all there is to living? It’d be a damn shame to waste the time you have for trivial personal accolades, but that’s the way Big Nick has always operated, and likely always will.
