‘Red Notice’ plays like ‘Blue’s Clues’ for grown-ups

There’s a stinging form of déjà vu that can sweep over you when you’re watching a movie that feels like you’ve seen it before. Red Notice is so full of such moments that by the end, my skin was crawling. There’s turn off your brain and enjoy films, and then there’s this. And no, its three ultra-famous headliners can’t rescue it from horrid mediocrity.

Written and directed by Rawson Marshall Thurber, Red Notice is less a movie and more a frenzied splattering of cliches, snatched from a barrage of action, espionage, and heist films. Your brain might notice some familiar fight staging, a half-remembered plot point, or the whistling of the Indiana Jones theme. Sadly, all these inspirations come from far superior films, so watching this one feels like watching Blue Clue’s, where the hints are so pronounced that you might well pull an overeager Leonard DiCaprio meme.

For starters, Dwayne Johnson swaggers onscreen playing a role we’ve seen him in plenty of times before: A no-nonsense cop forced to work hand-in-hand with a criminal that he high-key despises. Enter Ryan Reynolds, playing a part that feels like Deadpool drained of all his profane wit and left with quips like, “Why are you wearing the hairnet? You’re bald?” Finally, in swans Gal Gadot in glamorous Carmen Sandiego red attire, playing a thieving femme fatale, who can’t hold a candle to Fast and Furious’s Gisele.

The specifics are these: FBI agent John Hartley (Johnson) is out to bust the world’s two rival art thieves: wise-cracking Nolan Booth (Reynolds) and less-wise cracking The Bishop (Gadot), who drops punchlines with no punch like “I also know your browser history.” (Remember when that joke was fresh? Then congrats, you too are old.)

There’s turn off your brain and enjoy films, and then there’s this.

After a sleek switcheroo, Hartley’s good name is ruined as he’s framed for being in cahoots with Booth. To rescue his reputation, the pair will team up — through prison breaks, car chases, jungle runs, and a faceoff with a rampaging bull — to best The Bishop by stealing a long-lost artifact out from under her. In theory, this path is full of twists and turns. However, Thurber is coloring within the lines of convention, so all of it is infuriatingly predictable. The whole time I was anticipating every double-cross and secret reveal. So, yeah, it’s like watching a kids’ show and just wishing they’d solve the damn puzzle already.

Perhaps Thurber thought he could mask these telegraphed twists by the sheer amount of exposition dumping, made up of way too many details about the characters’ childhoods, the tedious history of the fictional artifacts, and maniacal monologuing that’s best suited to Bond villains. Or perhaps Thurber thought razzle-dazzle might be a good distraction?

I’m sure on paper all the action set pieces I glazed over above seemed exciting, as did the promise of a sultry tango scene between Johnson and Gadot. But all of the above is lacking. For instance, the dance scene is meant to tease a sexual tension between the good cop and the bad girl. However, Johnson has built his entire movie-star persona on being tough-as-nails but approachable. So when he attempts snarly smolder, it feels achingly stiff. Gadot is smirking and swiveling her hips, but there’s no spark between them, so this arc falls spectacularly flat.

Also floundering is Gadot’s attempts at landing punchlines. Sure, she’s gotten some laughs in Wonder Woman, but while playing a wide-eyed fish-out-of-water, winsomely enchanted by babies and ice cream. Here, balancing sultry and sophisticated with zingers that don’t zing, she’s out of step. But she’s not alone. Johnson and Reynolds also struggle to make something out of Thurber’s insipid script, which forces the Deadpool star to re-enact the Marvel misfit’s meta-commentary schitck with lines like “Sneak past the featured extras and into the bedroom” and “Look for a box that says MacGuffin!”

No wonder he seems on cruise control. Reynolds is basically plagiarizing himself. And Johnson matches his enthusiasm (or lack thereof.)

Worse though are the action sequences. Part of the problem is CGI that is simply subpar. There’s too stark a difference between real-life sets and their human actors and the rubbery CGI of a fake crumbling wall and animated Reynolds and Johnson tumbling out of it. Quick cuts might hide some seams between practical stunts and CGI, but it won’t save a bad edit.

Reynolds is basically plagiarizing himself.

Early on in Reynold’s first escape scene, there’s a glaring error in an attempted match-on-action edit. This means when the camera moves from a wide shot to a closer shot, cutting through a moment of action so that it appears seamless. When it’s done wrong, the action looks stuttered as it does here. Beyond scratching at audience awareness of a movie’s artifice, it also compromises the collaborative performance between stunt man and star. So, what should be a scene where it seems Booth is getting out by the skin of his teeth feels like he’s toying with the hapless security guards in pursuit. It shifts the stakes, and not in a way that benefits the suspense of the scene.

This is really a shame because it seems like this sequence — and Booth’s overall stunt physicality — is meant as an homage to Jackie Chan. Sure, Reynolds (and his stunt double) don’t have the masterful moves of this living legend. But in Booth’s frenzied physicality, there’s a fun sense of Chan’s brand of action, where it felt like anything could happen and ANYTHING could be an improvised weapon. But again, Red Notice makes these gestures without their bravado and creativity. So, you might notice the nods to Indiana Jones, James Bond, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, or even Michael Bay’s high-gloss, high saturated color aesthetic. But then you’ll be left wishing you’d just watched those instead.

Red Notice opens in select theaters Nov. 5 and on Netflix Nov. 12.