Movie review: 'The Fall Guy' a testament to star power, not stunts

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May 1

By Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service

In theory, "The Fall Guy" may be former stuntman David Leitch's loving tribute to stunt professionals, but in practice, it's a demonstration of the importance of movie star charisma. Loosely based on the 1980s TV show that starred Lee Majors as a stunt man moonlighting as a bounty hunter, "The Fall Guy" orbits around one person with a planetary-sized screen presence, Ryan Gosling. Hair streaked with the remaining vestiges of his "Barbie" blond, the sun seems to rise and set based on where he directs his deep blue gaze, which is usually at his co-star, Emily Blunt.

Working with these two screen supernovas, Leitch and writer Drew Pearce set up a cute workplace rom-com where the workplace happens to involve massive explosions and death-defying feats of physical peril.

Colt Seavers (Gosling) is the cocky, charming stunt double of superstar Tom Ryder (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), and Jody Moreno (Blunt) is the ambitious camera operator who dreams of directing her own films. Colt and Jody's lighthearted fling, which involves making out in trailers and flirting over the walkie about spicy margaritas, is cut abruptly short when Colt suffers a serious accident performing a stunt and ghosts the industry — and Jody — during his recovery.

When he turns up on the Australian set of Jody's directorial debut (a sci-fi Western titled "Metal Storm") some 18 months later, "The Fall Guy" displays all the hallmarks of a second-chance, enemies-to-lovers romance. A little work, a little play, a few car chases and explosions, kiss the girl, burn rubber into the sunset. Too bad they had to muck it all up with an overwrought murder mystery plonked in the middle of the plot.

The televisual source material does involve our stunt man hunting bounty, so hunt bounty our hero Colt should, even though we'd rather hang around on set watching Jody work out her complex emotions about her ex by having him set on fire many times. Alas, he's tasked by Diet Coke-swilling producer Gail Meyer (Hannah Waddingham, atrociously wigged) with the case of the missing movie star. Find Tom, save the movie, get the girl.

Therein, Pearce's script launches Colt down the rabbit hole of Tom's wild recent past. He meets up with a drug dealer at a neon-lit club, fighting off heavies through a hefty dose of hallucinogenics. He battles a crew of baddies on the back of a speeding garbage truck while trying to make it to meet Jody for karaoke in time.

What makes it funny is not the goofy, lowest common denominator humor that has become Leitch's signature tone (see also: "Deadpool 2," "Bullet Train") but rather, Gosling's efforts in spite of the material, the reluctance that he infuses into his performance. Colt's just a tired, heartbroken man who would rather sob in his truck to Taylor Swift than beat anyone up, but by dint of his training and desire to help Jody achieve her dreams, he'll do it, even if it kills him.

What's funny and charming are not the druggie jokes or the "edgy" topical humor or even the many, many movie references. What's funny and charming is Blunt and Gosling bantering, the characters on the crew, the extras chiming in on their spats. Too bad we don't get enough time to get to know them. The supporting characters are underwritten, and even our leads are thinly drawn on the page, their magnetism created by the sheer force that is Blunt and Gosling, combined.

There's a meta moment where Colt complains to his tormentors that it's getting a little plot heavy, too much exposition, and it's a comment on "The Fall Guy" itself, which goes on a little long, with too many twists and turns. The meta moments have their charms, but can feel a little cutesy. What feels real is the self-reflection in the moments on set, but Leitch frustratingly denies us, instead sending us skittering around the streets of Sydney.

There's a colorful, plasticky sheen to Leitch's work that makes all the stunts pop, but feel slightly unreal at the same time. Ergo, the primary visual appeal of the film is, of course, Gosling himself, who, with the help of his own stunt doubles, solidly muscles through the action, increasingly bloodied and battered. He's built, but not superhuman, and as Colt, he's just a man, lying in front of a girl, giving her a thumbs up that he's OK, even when he's hurting.

This invulnerable ethos of the stunt professional lends itself well to the emotional core of the screenplay, and there are heartfelt moments that ring true among the bombast, thanks to the compelling actors who lend their powers to this otherwise undercooked script. What becomes apparent in "The Fall Guy" is that though stunts may make the movies exciting, it's the stars who get you in your gut.