There are better films than Wolfs. Neither George Clooney nor Brad Pitt could honestly say that Jon Watts’s bumpy buddy comedy is the best thing they’ve done. It’s too glossy, too smug, and it isn’t nearly as clever as it thinks it is. And yet, somehow, it gets the job done. That’s the Clooney and Pitt effect.
Gorgeous George portrays a professional fixer called upon to clean up a murderous mess in a swanky New York hotel room. Equally gorgeous Brad was also summoned to fix the problem. Our nameless protagonists usually work alone, like Harvey Keitel’s Winston Wolfe (har-har) in Pulp Fiction. Tonight, however, they’ll need to adapt. Further complications arise after one of them discovers a bag of heroin in the room. Oh, and the dead body isn’t quite as dead as they thought.
Convoluted plot swerves occasionally spoil the fun, but our charismatic leads – aware of their age and refusing to act it – are in fabulous nick. Clooney and Pitt know when to act tough, when to look cool and when to laugh at themselves. They could smooth-talk their way through anything, and our old-school movie star pals make Wolfs work, even when it shouldn’t. Give it a go.
Three stars