Mark Reviews Movies: JOHN HENRY

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Review by Mark Dujsik | January 23, 2020

His father named him after the folk hero, the steel-driving man who defeated industry in a race at the cost of his life. In John Henry, we learn that, as a baby, the eponymous character grabbed his father's finger so tightly that it was the only name dad could imagine for his son.

When we first meet John Henry (Terry Crews), he does have a hammer. That's to be expected, but what we might not expect is that he's using that hammer to build a doghouse for his small, fluffy, and beloved pup. The dog isn't long for this story, though, and as John is putting his hammer away, there are the sounds of a car and a thump and a pained cry. The tall and muscular man goes to his dog, and the driver of the car confronts him. The driver is mad about the minimal damage the little pooch has caused to his ride.

There's a look in John's eyes. He wants to do something. He needs to do something. You don't just kill a man's dog and start yelling about the condition of the vehicle that ran down the poor animal. This is one of those moments that will define a character, and even after the driver pulls out a gun, John doesn't back down. There's no fear in his eyes. He doesn't say a word.

Instead, he bends down, picks up the broken body of his dog, and walks away. This isn't a retreat, because John takes his time in the movements. It's not a defeat, because he still doesn't show any signs of fear, even when his back is turned to the armed man.

This is a choice. John could do something. As far as we can tell from his face, he wants to do something, but he chooses, not retaliation or violence, but the things that really matter—his life, some decency toward the dog he adored, his own conscience.

Even though it might not seem like it, there's strength in this decision, and co-writer/director Will Forbes' movie spends most of its time exploring just how strong John is in his refusal of violence. The man has had enough of that to last a lifetime. He just wants to spend the rest of his life in as much peace and quiet as this world will afford him.

This is more difficult than we might expect, especially considering the world in which John finds himself. As a young man, he got involved with a gang, led by his megalomaniacal cousin. He gave that life up, though, after killing a man to prove his devotion. He confronted the cousin, and it didn't go well. There was a gun. There was a scuffle. There was a single shot fired.

John won't even touch a gun with his bare hands now. The cousin, named Hell (Chris "Ludacris" Bridges), ended up with a metallic jaw—gold with gems embedded into it—after the confrontation, but he eventually got what he wanted, too. He's the king of the neighborhood. He doesn't use a gun, either. Other people will do that for him, and when he wants to add a personal touch to the violence he inflicts, Hell uses a blowtorch.

This history, told in flashback, is key to John's character and the conflict that eventually overtakes the plot. Hodges and co-writer Doug Skinner's screenplay is admirable for the ways in which it keeps that inevitable conflict at bay for as long as it does. The downside is that the conflict between cousins is inevitable, and there comes a point at which John, the willful pacifist and man of seemingly inflexible conscience, has to pick up a hammer. It won't be because he adopted a new dog and needs to build another house, either.

Until that third-act turn, though, the movie evades its seemingly inherent action/thriller expectations, and it's all the better for that evasion. There's a plot—filled with misery, violence, and some suspense—involving a woman named Berta (Jamila Velazquez), an undocumented migrant, who has come to Los Angeles with her brother (played by Tyler Alvarez) to find their half-brother Emilio (J.J. Soria). At the movie's start, Berta has been abducted by Hell's gang for their sex trafficking operation. Her brothers rescue her, killing several of Hell's gang in the process, and Berta finds herself under John's porch. John takes her in and promises to find a safe place for her.

The rest of this should be obvious, as the gang quickly starts looking for Berta and the surviving Emilio, but Hodges mostly avoids the obvious route. The movie is about these characters in a way that allows them to talk about their pasts, debate about violence (John's father BJ, played by Ken Foree, keeps a gun in the house with his son, although he keeps it out of sight), and learn to trust each other. In letting the pain and grief and remorse of this situation and these characters' histories be the focus, the movie actually shows its respect for John's perspective on such matters.

Then, that third act of John Henry happens. It pummels any notion—just as John pummels a couple of heads with a sledgehammer—that the filmmakers can resolve the central conflict in a way that respects the real strength of the title character.

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