It’s like Pierce Bronson like you never seen him before. Such is a trite way of beginning this review, but it is the truth.
He’s a hitman who trots around the globe, finishing assignments by fiinish lives. Not only he does he travels to exotic locations but he also has wild, mind-blowing sex with even more extoic looking women. What is there not to love about his uninhibited life?
Oh, and he is also having a nervous breakdown.
The same is true about Greg Kanneir. He plays a traveling salesman who not only has been laid ooff but also physically lost part of his house during a turbulent rain storm.Similar to Bronson’s numerous one-night hump sessions, the only thing going for Kanneir’s character is his supporting wife.
Such is the set up for the funny but poigiant “The Matador,” a bromance about two midlife crises meeting each other and find blanance in an unlikely friendship.
It is always ironic how movies like this one are about people in midlife crisises. For those who lived long enough without obtaining facial wrinkles, human dred, unlike voting that supposed to buttress it, does not have a minumum age requirement. In that way, the Matador is univesal.
It brings to the 2nd inrony in the film. The movie is also about the wife. She lost something more subtantial than a wild lifestyle or a fleeting comission-only career: She lost a child in an accident. Indeed Kanneir’s character also shares the lost, but it seems that since all children come from the the tradgedy is more personal for the mother; she, after all, lost something that was a literal part of herself.
And yet, despite the dreaded set up, the movie is pretty funny in its own offbeat way. Most impressive is the subtlety of the jokes amplified by context. Growing a moustache like your new best friend is not funny in itself, and yet, it makes you laugh simply because it makes sense. Who has not adapted to the likes of those around them?
Don’t get me wrong: psychoanalysing the characters is not the only enjoyment offered in “the Matador.” Some might complain that for a movie about a hitman there are no edgy action sequences. But who cares? It was scary enough seeing Bronson cry. Ugh.
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