A Review of “Assassin in Love,” a Film
The idea of an assassin try to turn his back on his chosen profession is a theme as old as the genre itself. In this case, the film title combined with the purposefully shoddily looking poster sums up the plot quite succinctly and informs the audience what a quirky little romp it’s going to be. Leading a wonderfully eccentric British cast, Damian Lewis plays Milo— a contract killer suffering a rather premature midlife crisis and begins questioning the validity of a career that has defined his entire lifestyle.
After failing to assassinate a mark, his old friend encourages him to escape to the Welsh countryside. This is where “Assassin in Love” deviates from every other movie that has gone down the same path. It ultimately presents itself as more of a dark comedy than a tale of redemption littered with good people slaughtered at every turn for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. While the rival assassin sent after him dispatches of several citizens of the town in some rather outrageous manners, the film does quite a commendable job of navigating away from clichéd territory by throwing in some rather silly plot devices, such as a spontaneously exploding sheep that almost literally propels him into the arms of his eventual love interest, Rhiannon.
The movie itself was a mixed bag. It had some very heartwarming moments and at the same time, it was rather uneven in pace. The opening sets a dark, somber tone, one that shows a solemn man in search of himself, but once he arrives in the little town the film literally seems to brighten and everything is happier. He goes through a very profound change, realizing that the cover as a baker that he has been dealt is actually blessing in disguise. Hilarity then ensues as he proves to be utterly inept at making bread to line the dusty and abandoned shelves of the bakery. Quite predictably, his arrival in town is met with immediate acceptance into the awkward but loyal social circle that frequents a bar and butcher shop, alternatively. However, he also finds what has been missing in his life all along, a calling that he feels a passion and affinity for, however cringe-worthy his finished products end up being.
Ultimately, misunderstandings happen as a local teenager with an overactive imagination finds the gun Milo has buried and inadvertently reveals the secret to the whole town who, instead of being horrified, each flock to their baker in the hopes of having someone killed. Milo’s character has an ironic contrast with the rest of the characters as a career assassin with the residents of the scenic countryside ought to. While he only wants to settle down with the woman he loves and make pastries for the rest of his life, the residents become the ones showing the more violent tendencies.
It is in the film’s uncanny ability to subvert clichés that the charm lies. What one has come to expect from more conventional storytelling is almost entirely absent here; instead, there is a certain carefree tone that makes it such a refreshing bit of cinema. There are quite a few murders, but at no point do they ever truly dampen the mood, which could potentially put it at a disadvantage because there is never any true gravitas. It is also important to take into account that this is a British film, made for British audiences, whose tastes, in humor especially, tend to be quite different from the things Americans usually enjoy.
