Disclaimer: I’ve come to learn that my theater played this film without subtitles, of which there is clearly meant to be a fair amount. I thought it was a stylistic choice in all honesty due to how the film is framed. So while I don’t believe I missed too much, and still greatly enjoyed the film, I felt it important to note.
With Den of Thieves 2: Pantera, filmmaker Christian Gudegast has beyond proven himself a clear student of the heist film. He clearly grasps an innate understanding in how these movies should function amongst audiences. This was made abundantly clear by his original 2018 film. And one might have gone into this new follow-up expecting a more heightened version of everything Gudegast delivered in his debut feature. But in an exciting turn of events, this film pivots in undeniably fascinating ways. I have to assume that the mileage may vary for many audience members, but personally, I found myself both thrilled and intrigued with what Gudegast was attempting here. Gone are the scuzzy band of characters and backdrop of Los Angeles. Instead, we’re whisked away to the beautiful south of France and all the suave characterizing that comes with it; but not before Gudegast treats his audience to a familiar opening.
Pantera opens up with as much intensity as the first film, albeit in a different form. The original film begins with a heist sequence that quickly devolves into chaos and violence. Gudegast’s latest takes a different approach. It’s one that this film will repeatedly turn to; everything is operating with laser precision. It’s easy to tell that the masked and heavily-armored individuals involved are beyond well-prepared. Speaking quickly and matter-of-factly, with the synth-laden score thrumming throughout, the thieves are on and off the screen in what barely feels like a few minutes. Much like these criminals, it feels like Gudegast is in complete control of his skill set. It importantly reveals that he has an equally impressive ability to adapt his heist-filmmaking prowess to a range of settings and tones. Because with Pantera, there’s a slick nature to be found at the very core of this film. It’s laid-back and relaxed in a way that many European-centric heist films capitalize on. Think Rififi, Ocean’s Twelve, and The Italian Job. If the original film serves as an ode to filmmakers like Michael Mann and William Friedkin, this feels more akin to the efforts of Jules Dassin or Jean-Pierre Melville.
The two former films are examples that I couldn’t get out of my head while watching this. I was legitimately stunned when, halfway through the film, I realized Gudegast was practically ditching any form of heist logistics whatsoever. Instead, he decides to place a focus on the characters he introduced to the world 7 years ago. Would you believe me if I said this film includes a buddy comedy routine thrown into the middle of it? Or perhaps if I relayed the sequence where Big Nick (once again, a ridiculously fun, fully committed Gerard Butler) rediscovers the beauty and joy to be found in life while crossfaded at an outdoor European nightclub? In some ways, that descriptor can be seen as humorous. But in many ways, Gudegast is being very purposeful with his bold swerve from the street-level intensity of his LA-set heist film. Beyond being another film about another heist, this is a film about the beckoning one might feel when walking on the knife’s edge. Gudegast posits how enticing it must be for Big Nick to live in such beauty.
After the tension-fueled opening sequence, Gudegast takes us back to LA to see Big Nick. It seems like absolutely nothing has changed for the better. Whereas Donnie (O’Shea Jackson Jr.) is now shown to be living the high life and operating at much more professional levels, Big Nick has deteriorated. He’s back on the big screen at a urinal in a divorce court, with legal papers folded and being held between his teeth. It’s a ridiculous sight. Then again, Big Nick is a ridiculous individual. It’s clear Butler has lost none of the brash attitude he plays this character with. Disrespect and vitriol pours out of him wherever he is, and it imbues Pantera with a sense of shocking fun. More than that, it puts audiences on edge in relation to the central conceit it will rely on. Because these characters are so volatile, acting off unchecked emotions and toxic masculinity, we never know their true motivations. As Big Nick and Donnie become more intertwined with one another, it’s understandable to see how they both operate purely off the rush they get from their addiction-fueled lifestyles. That Gudegast begins to massively pump the brakes in this middle chunk of the film is a testament to his form of storytelling. He is not a filmmaker simply rushing through his film to get to the heist. He’s interested in the dynamic these characters share. While the rougher edges of the previous film may have been sanded down a bit, it’s all in favor of a smooth narrative that allows for a break-away segment of bonding over drunken meals and bickering amongst one another. Big Nick and Donnie are two characters we’ve come to love. These characters are now enjoying the breeze of the laid-back lifestyle. And Gudegast reflects this in the very structure and style of the film. That is, of course, until we finally do arrive at the stellar heist sequence in the final act.
Despite being less interested in the logistical planning this time around (it’s still there, just not at the forefront of this film), the heist of Pantera is riveting. For large swaths of it, the action itself remains nearly silent. It’s here that Rififi jumped out to me as being a clear benchmark for Gudegast. In one of the most famous heist sequences in cinema, there’s practically 30 minutes of silence as Dassin’s criminals pull off their own job. While Gudegast perhaps doesn’t commit to this feat at such a level, the length of the job in Pantera is certainly as committed. There’s a tension baked into the entire final act of this film. It’s captured so clinically by Gudegast, as he understands there are few things more engaging than seeing the inner workings of a well-oiled machine. We follow the crew along every step as they make their way into the vault of a diamond exchange. And as this film assuredly ascends towards its crescendo of a finale, it’s easy to see what Gudegast was after with this sequel.
Throughout the course of this film, Big Nick is shown to be spiraling further and further down into the world he once battled against. He fits in nicely amongst the merry cast of criminals in this film. Throughout both films, he has been a tornado of bad behavior. So it’s not surprising to see how easily enticed he can be at the prospect of free drugs, alcohol, and a massive payout. He is a man who has teetered on the edge of a knife for years of his life. Will his self-destructive tendencies get the better of him when faced with such exuberance? It’s only a single choice away, and it would leave him in much better circumstances than we’ve ever seen him in before. Butler plays this conflict quite well, and when Pantera really begins to pick up steam, character motivations get thrown out the window. It becomes a film all about riding the dragon and how enticing it might be from the outside looking in. With Den of Thieves 2: Pantera, Gudegast captures the rush of such circumstances on levels both emotional and cinematic. As much as these two films are about heists, they are also about two characters we have come to understand a bit better. So the prospect of spending even more time with Big Nick and Donnie in future films is a thrilling one. It’s time to start thinking about what subsection of the crime genre Gudegast will be taken by next.
Den of Thieves 2: Pantera is now playing in theaters.