Watching Wanted, it’s obvious where screenwriters Michael Brandt and Derek Haas got their inspiration: 1999. Inarguably, the three best films of the Clinton years were made in that year, and that cinematic trinity flows through Wanted like a purple midget eating monster at a Prince concert at the turn of the millennium. It has that Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta anti-cubicle fuck you vibe of Office Space, the struggle for individuality spirit and light-hearted brutality of Fight Club, and a brand of action-movie Waschowskism that hasn’t felt this fresh since The Matrix, even if director Timur Bekmambetov owes a huge debt to that movie. Throw in a dash of last year’s Ratatouille (you’ll understand), and you have the symphonic awesomeness of Wanted, an orgy of bullets, blood, and toned flesh that will break open your anal capillaries like a Crisco-free Saturday night up on Brokeback.
