The early work of a string of directors comes to mind while watching Bullet Train, among them Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, Guy Ritchie, Joe Carnahan and Timur Bekmambetov. The difference is that those filmmakers have mostly moved on from this kind of assaultive bloodbath, which pummels you into numbness with its onslaught of glib dark comedy, escalating carnage and over-the-top gore. David Leitch’s directing credits — Atomic Blonde, Deadpool 2, Hobbs & Shaw — have remained firmly tethered to his stunt background, occasionally with entertaining results. But his latest is so busy delivering violent action with a self-satisfied wink that its contorted plotting and one-note characters get real tedious real fast.
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