Viking Night: The Transporter
By Bruce Hall
October 4, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Okay, maybe the good old days weren’t ALL good. But there’s still a warm, napalm drenched place in my heart for the Alpha Male Action Hero. He’s grim, remorseless, determined, and he’ll gladly break your head off your neck if you get in his way. At one point Arnold and Sly were the standard bearers for this kind of guy, but while they were entertaining in their prime, how accessible are they to the average Joe? How does anyone other than a professional bodybuilder get as freakishly huge as Arnold, and how many times did we have to sit through an improbable back story about how he got the accent? And I like Sly as much as anyone, but he’s a one note Johnny who rode the wave of goodwill from Rocky past the shore and ten miles inland. No, these are not real men. They’re cartoons.
This brings us to a new century, and to a new hero. This brings us to The Transporter. This brings us to Jason Statham - quite possibly the most awesome single individual walking the face of God’s earth today. Statham’s first movie was a breakout role as a grifter in Guy Ritchie’s gangster classic Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Despite not being a natural actor, Statham made for a memorable supporting player. But it was his background as an Olympic diver, male model and martial artist that made him a natural fit for the role of Frank Martin - the Transporter. What’s a Transporter? Why, I’m glad you asked. Gather ‘round and I shall tell you a tale...
Every now and then, someone in the criminal underworld needs a package delivered discreetly, no questions asked. Frank Martin (Statham) is a specialist in this field. He’s a gifted driver, and as an ex British Special Forces agent with a checkered past (like 99% of Statham’s roles), he has the skills to handle just about anything or anyone that might make for a late delivery. If it absolutely, positively has to be there overnight - and in ass kicking fashion - Frank’s your guy. He proves it in the film’s opening scene when he serves as wheel man for a bumbling gang of bank robbers and delivers them through a sea of equally bumbling cops to their destination, spitting in the distinguished face of Sir Isaac Newton and arriving without a scratch.
Frank’s a regular James Bond with his custom tailored suit, tricked out car and elegant seaside villa, but he’s not fooling one particularly gallant police detective named Tarconi (François Berléand). Tarconi shows up to question Frank after the bank heist, and their verbal game of cat and mouse seems so well worn you get the idea they’ve done this many times before. Frank, with his arsenal of rotating license plates and secret compartments, plays the part of a retired Army pensioner living off his disability on the sunny French seaside. Tarconi, because he’s a movie cop and not a real one, pretends there’s nothing he can do about it.
All that changes after Frank’s next assignment. Enlisted by a Mysterious Gangster named Wall Street (Matt Schulze) to deliver yet another Mysterious Package, Frank is on his way to the Mysterious Drop Point when a flat tire slows him down. This is the same car that ten minutes earlier was doing things my ninth grade physics teacher told me were impossible. But of course, if Frank doesn’t get a flat tire, he doesn’t look in the trunk. And if he doesn’t look in the trunk, he doesn’t notice something suspicious about his package. And if that doesn’t happen, he doesn’t break Rule Number Three. Wait, what rules, you say? Okay, I suppose now is a good time to cover The Transporter’s Rules of Conduct, Version 1.0:
1. The deal is the deal.
2. No names.
3. Never open the package.
Frank opens the package, and what are the odds it turns out to be a beautiful young Asian girl with pouty lips, pert breasts, and a tiny little pear shaped ass? Wow. Just....wow. The last time I got a flat, the only thing I found in the trunk was the jack to a different car and a hole where the spare used to be. But then, I’m not Jason Freaking Statham, am I? Anyway, the girl turns out to be named Lai Kwai (Shu Qi), and she has a secret to hide and a story to tell. And Wall Street...well, he’s just all 31 flavors of psycho. Frank finds himself in the middle of a massive international web of lies, murder and intrigue. It will take all of his guts, nerve, and mad ass-kicking skills to survive. He’ll need the help of his frenemy Inspector Tarconi, and he’ll have to overcome his mistrustful instincts and let down his guard around Lai Kwai if he wants his life back. Good thing she’s a beautiful young Asian girl with pouty lips, pert breasts and a tiny little pear shaped ass.
Yeah. There’s no question how all this is going to turn out. If you’re a movie buff, and you’re thinking this movie sounds like it involved Luc Besson, Louis Leterrier and Pierre Morel, you’re correct. If you don’t happen to know what I’m talking about, don’t worry. What I mean is that where the typical 1980s style One Man Army flick played out like a live action cartoon, The Transporter is essentially a 90 minute video game. The narrative is necessarily thin, but engaging. The characters are two dimensional, yet sufficiently entertaining - provided the movie doesn’t pause long enough for you to wonder about them.
The prologue, where Frank carries out the bank job, is akin to the opening level of most first person shooters where the game teaches you how it’s played. From then on, it’s one level after another, one boss battle after another. And like Call of Duty, all Frank has to do is duck behind cover for a minute or two to regain his health, no matter how badly he’s been beaten. This is in no way an indictment of the film - quite the contrary. For a first person shooter to be successful, you need several things:
1. A goal sufficiently noble to justify killing people indiscriminately. Check.
2. A hero who is a badass, but still human enough to love. Check.
3. A slick musical score. Check.
4. Badass button combinations that allow the hero to physically do things that nobody can really do. Check.
5. A fast paced story that only slows down long enough for someone to fall in love with the hero, or the hero to fall in love with himself.
And believe me, it doesn’t hurt if every weapon in the movie is loaded with tracer rounds. The Transporter is absurd, it’s over the top, it’s comical and at times just plain ridiculous. But the people behind it simply know how to make it look good, and how to make you want to keep watching. And Jason Statham is the perfect 21st Century action stud. You wouldn’t look twice at him walking down the street but he’s got the charisma, stamina, charm and physical skill necessary to make you forget how stupid what you’re seeing really is. And when it’s all over, all you want to do is hit the reset button and play again. But who can blame you?
Jason Statham should be more famous than he already is. He doesn’t need to branch out. He doesn’t need to diversify. He doesn’t need range. He has everything he needs - he is 100% red meat pedal to the medal high resolution single player bad ass. Try not to get in his way but if you do, and it comes down to you or him, consider your neck snapping an honor. Who would you rather get it from? Jake Gyllenhaal? Shia LaBeouf? Ryan Gosling? I think not.
Rule Number Four: Statham is as Statham does.