Review: Grosse Point Blank

Review: 🎬Grosse Pointe Blank (1997)

Grosse Pointe Blank (1997) – A wickedly smart, darkly funny, and surprisingly heartfelt gem.

 5 out of 5

There are films that flirt with genre conventions, and then there are films like Grosse Pointe Blank, which seduce them, tie them up, and leave them laughing in the trunk of a car. This 1997 sleeper comedy is a rare cinematic cocktail: part romantic comedy, part action thriller, part existential crisis — shaken, not stirred, with a twist of dark humor and a splash of satire.

John Cusack, in what may be his most quintessentially Cusackian role, plays Martin Blank, a hitman suffering from a professional malaise and a personal reckoning. He returns to his hometown of Grosse Pointe, Michigan, for his high school reunion — and, incidentally, a contract killing. Cusack’s performance is a masterclass in comedic timing and emotional detachment, delivering deadpan lines with the precision of a sniper and the soul of a poet.

His chemistry with Minnie Driver, who plays radio host Debi Newberry, is electric and oddly tender. Driver’s performance is so charismatic, so effortlessly charming, that it arguably launched her into the mainstream spotlight. She’s the emotional anchor in a film that otherwise dances gleefully on the edge of absurdity.

The supporting cast is a buffet of character actor excellence. Alan Arkin, as Blank’s reluctant therapist, brings neurotic warmth and dry wit to every scene. Jeremy Piven, as the fast-talking old friend, is a perfect foil to Blank’s brooding detachment. Joan Cusack, as Martin’s frazzled assistant, is a comedic hurricane — her phone calls alone deserve their own spin-off. And yes, that’s Ann Cusack in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo, adding a subtle familial wink to the proceedings.

But the film’s secret weapon is Dan Aykroyd, who plays rival hitman Grocer with manic glee. Aykroyd’s performance is a symphony of paranoia and punchlines, delivering lines like “I’m a professional killer, not a psychopath” with such conviction that you almost believe him. His scenes with Cusack crackle with tension and wit, culminating in one of the most believable and brutal fight scenes of the decade — a hand-to-hand showdown featuring martial arts legend Benny "The Jet" Urquidez. It’s a fight that feels real, raw, and earned, choreographed with the kind of respect for physicality that most action films forget.

What elevates Grosse Pointe Blank beyond its genre-blending cleverness is the way it emotionally grapples with Martin Blank’s internal conflict — the cold rationalization of his profession as a hitman against a growing desire to start over. This existential tug-of-war is handled with brilliant deadpan dark humor, never veering into melodrama. Cusack delivers lines like “It’s not me, it’s the job,” with such dry sincerity that you laugh — and then pause, realizing the weight behind the joke. The film doesn’t ask for forgiveness, but it does ask for understanding, and it does so with a wink and a smirk. Martin’s journey toward redemption is paved with sarcasm, therapy sessions, and awkward high school encounters, and yet it feels authentic. It’s a rare comedy that lets its protagonist be both emotionally numb and emotionally honest — often in the same breath.

Director George Armitage walks a tonal tightrope and never stumbles. The film’s soundtrack — a nostalgic mixtape of '80s hits — underscores the emotional beats without ever overwhelming them. The script, co-written by Cusack, is sharp, self-aware, and consistently funny, with dialogue that feels both stylized and authentic.

Grosse Pointe Blank is a film that shouldn’t work — and yet, it works beautifully. It’s a comedy about killing, a romance about regret, and a reunion about redemption. It’s a film that understands that growing up doesn’t mean giving up, and that sometimes, the most dangerous thing you can do is go home.