Hollywood has a Chris problem. There are just too many of them, all of them identikit hunks starring in similar superhero and sci-fi franchises. Chris Pine, Chris Pratt, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth… Who has the time or inclination to tell them apart? That said, Chris Pratt is marginally my favorite, thanks to his breakout role as endearingly goofy slacker Andy Dwyer on the mighty NBC sitcom Parks & Recreation. Since then, he’s gone to the gym, lost several rocks and become a bonafide leading man.
Now Pratt returns to TV for a crass military thriller The terminal list †Amazon Prime video† adapted from Jack Carr’s bestseller. He plays Lieutenant Commander James Reece, leader of an elite platoon of US Navy Seals. When ambushed during a secret mission in Syria, all his comrades are killed. Sole survivor Reece returns home to be questioned about what went wrong, but his story deviates dramatically from the official records.
Despite migraines and amnesia, Reece realizes dark forces are at play and a cover-up is underway. His trauma is depicted with flashbacks and dream sequences that quickly become as irritating as they are confusing. Pratt is often reduced to staring into space and looking stunned and whiskered, resembling a grizzly bear with a mild concussion.
A misguided Pratt isn’t the only problem with this eight-piece pudding of a production. The script and story are even worse. It’s that gray old thriller trope: a conspiracy that goes all the way to the top. All the soldiers are noble warriors, while the top men and politicians are dastardly swine. Who would have thought?
Reece soon clears names from a literal list as he takes out targets one at a time, dealing a lot of collateral damage along the way. The number of corpses is unattainably high. By the time Reece detonates bombs in downtown San Francisco, he’s less of a vengeful hero than a domestic terrorist. A torture scene with an ax is sickeningly graphic.
The Terminal List combines violent cynicism with an overly romanticized view of the US military and the fetishization of firearms. The camera often lingers fondly at weapons. Not ideal timing, with the recent spate of mass shootings in America and the ongoing gun control debate. Meanwhile, the po-faced Pratt is saddled with lines like, “Bring them to justice? dude BEN justice.” To indicate that he is a sensitive soul, he gets sentimental about his daughter or pulls out an acoustic guitar, like David Brent with bigger biceps.