Aside from numbering among its fans the esteemed German arthouse stalwart Christian Petzold, 2018’s cops-and-robbbers potboiler Den of Thieves made a name for itself by doing a far more convincing impression of Michael Mann’s cinema than the many that have tried. Its daunting two-hour-twenty length leavened by the most playful, unpredictable performance of Gerard Butler’s career, it earned every one of those minutes on merit of its scrupulously detail-oriented approach to the heist, with a focus on the nitty-gritty of process that made Mann’s masterpiece Heat both credible and engrossing. The magic-hour moments of pensiveness on a pristine Angeleno beach may have laid the homage on a little thick, but first-time feature director Christian Gudegast had the moves to back it up, his muscular film-making style serving the pleasures of its genre: the tension of a ticking clock, the insidery sophistication of burglary tech, the intense competency of the monomaniacally driven personalities drawn to the profession.
Seven years after the first installment spun an impressive payday from its ignominious January release date, Gudegast has returned to dispel the doldrums of a supposed releasing dead zone once again, and to prove that he’s now perfected the other key facet of Mann cosplay. Though renowned as the king of the crime saga, Mann orchestrated Heat like a macho melodrama, a tacit romance between two withdrawn men who must channel their flirtation, connection and arguments into gunplay. With an adroit touch elevating its imitative streak, the memorably titled Den of Thieves 2: Pantera leans into the characterization of Butler’s uncouth, Pepto-swigging, name-taking sheriff Big Nick as a figure of emotional waywardness. He’s a real guy’s guy, practically sweating testosterone, and yet his arc in his second outing follows plot beats more traditionally assigned to young women. Following a bad breakup, our protagonist spends a semester abroad in Europe, where they broaden their horizons and regain a little zest for life while opening their eyes to the one true love that’s been right there all along. He’s not exactly eating, praying and loving, but Big Nick learns to appreciate (and pronounce) a good croissant, and that’s close enough.
