A good sequel knows to answer the questions that the first film posed but didn’t have time to answer. In the case of Nobody 2, the question is a very simple “what next?” At the end of 2021’s surprise hit, <a href=” Nobody, the family of regular working schlub Hutch (Odenkirk) had learned that he was actually a freelance hitman and general dispenser of mayhem, and they were OK with it. But being OK with it and living with it are two very different things.
That’s where Nobody 2 kicks off – with Hutch sleeping in the spare room because he’s out late, “working.” His realtor wife, Becca (Nielsen), is sitting home while he’s picking up extra shifts. His kids (Munroe and Cadorath) are becoming teenagers while he’s off beating gangs to death with his belt, a lead pipe, or anything else that comes to hand. He may be a schmuck, but he’s creative and he loves his family. So much so that he takes a break from paying off the $30 million debt he incurred with the Russians in the first film to take the whole clan for a few days of vacation.
But, as the saying goes, no matter where you go, there you are. Even if that “where” is a Midwest water park that’s the only place Hutch’s dad (Lloyd) ever took him as a kid, and it happens to be a front operation for a criminal empire headed up by the delightfully merciless Lendina (Stone).
Nobody director Ilya Naishuller is out for this sequel, but he’s more than ably replaced by a familiar name to action enthusiasts, Timo Tjahjanto. While he broke out internationally with horror flicks like Macabre and May the Devil Take You, the Indonesian splatter master proved his hyperviolent chops with action flicks like The Night Comes for Us and The Shadow Strays. He may not be known for his comedy, but what he has perfected is doofuses. His men of action may be able to give and take a beating, but they’re also always out of their depth in everyday life. His humor is implicit and understated, and that’s a perfect counterpart for how Odenkirk plays Hutch: He gets hit, he bleeds, he gets shook up, and then he smashes the other guy in the face in absurdly innovative fashion. And when Stone turns up as a kingpin of crime who is, as one of her cowering underlings puts it, “batshit crazy,” it’s absolutely on.
With Odenkirk, Nielsen, and Lloyd returning, the gang’s all here. Even RZA is back as samurai-sword-wielding brother Harry (hey, RZA gonna RZA). In some ways, it’s a rerun of the first film, but Tjahjanto wisely doesn’t really escalate the scale of the carnage. If there’s a gripe about the John Wick films, it’s that the divide between the simple revenge pleasures of the 2014 original and the mythology-drenched final (for now) chapter. Instead of inessential worldbuilding, writers Derek Kolstad (who co-created John Wick) and Aaron Rabin (Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan) keep the story to just the essentials, allowing Tjahjanto to concentrate on firepower and impact.
There’s a ridiculous level of glee to how the Indonesian filmmaker orchestrates a good old-fashioned headshot, or a kick that sends a knee buckling the right way. The complete weaponization of an amusement park for the final standoff is one of the most creative explosions of comedic violence in years: Half Die Hard, half National Lampoon’s Vacation, and those two pieces slide together pretty easily. No surprise, considering how lubricated they are with blood and Odenkirk’s furrowed-brow charm. His absolute commitment to being as uncharismatic as possible – no mean feat for TV’s favorite sleazy lawyer – makes him perfect as the killer in comfortable sneakers.
This article appears in August 15 • 2025.
