Nobody review: Bob Odenkirk is a grouchy killer in this budget disciple of John Wick

Such an openly pro-violence stance would seem absurd if it weren’t for the fact Nobody (and Odenkirk himself) always seems in on the joke

Dir: Ilya Naishuller. Starring: Bob Odenkirk, Connie Nielsen, Aleksei Serebryakov, RZA, Michael Ironside. 15, 92 mins

Nobody is all one big joke. Wouldn’t it be funny if Bob Odenkirk – the slippery lawyer from Breaking Bad or the dad from Little Women, take your pick – was actually a ruthless killer? It’s a strong enough bit to rescue the film from any of its baser motivations, specifically its desire to function as a budget disciple of John Wick, straight from the pen of its creator Derek Kolstad. It’s not that Odenkirk is so improbable in the tough guy role (he trained extensively and lands his punches with an impressive fury), but that he plays the whole thing with a level of grouchy self-awareness. It’s like watching Garfield with blood on his hands.

When we first meet Odenkirk’s character, Hutch Mansell, he’s mid-interrogation, pausing to slip a cigarette out of his gore-splattered jacket. He then takes out a series of items: a can of tuna, a can opener, and, finally, a bleary-eyed kitten. “Who the f*** are you?” the bewildered investigator asks. Hutch responds: “Me? I’m…” – smash cut to the film’s title. Hutch used to be in the employ of several intelligence agencies as an “auditor”, a euphemism for the guy called in to clean up messes. Now he could be any old suburban dad, trapped in the monotonous cycle of bin days, spreadsheets, and instant coffee. His marriage to Rebecca (Connie Nielsen, trapped in the “concerned wife” role) is affectionate, but sexless.

When two panicked, slightly inept robbers break into their home, Hutch spares them from violence – only to be roundly mocked by his wife, the cops, and his teenage son (Gage Munroe). Such an openly pro-violence stance would seem absurd if it weren’t for the fact Nobody (and Odenkirk himself) always seems in on the joke. Hutch, in return, sighs and grumbles. Once he finally does snap, Nobody becomes a parody of our own quotidian rage. He’s triggered first by the disappearance of his daughter’s favourite kitty charm bracelet, then by a group of men harassing a young woman on a bus.

The murderousness he’s spent years building a dam up against bursts forth. There’s a feral quality to the way he fights, in complete antithesis to the balletics of John Wick. A plastic straw finds a new, repulsive purpose. The grittiness here is the distinctive stamp of director Ilya Naishulle, best known for Hardcore Henry – shot on GoPros in first-person perspective, meaning it essentially plays out like a live-action videogame.

The rest of the film undoes much of Nobody’s promise. One of the men Hutch attacks turns out (of course) to be the younger brother of a powerful Russian mobster (Aleksei Serebryakov). Violence begets violence, and the film cycles through a few classic needle drops – including “What a Wonderful World” and “The Impossible Dream” – in an attempt to keep the pace up.

Thankfully, Odenkirk remains wry and watchable, especially as Hutch’s targets continue to die on him mid-monologue. It’s just enough to make you wish he might cross paths with Mr Wick in the future.