Transporter 2

Transporter fans will be sated, but whether or not a cinematic establishment is born is another issue

Official Transporter 2 Site
Action
Starring Jason Statham, Amber Valetta, Kate Nauta, Matthew Modine, Allessandro Gassman
PG-13 (for intense and graphic fighting scenes, sexual situations)
Running Time: 88 Minutes
Released:September 2, 2005




1 Out Of 5 Bites

It wants to be James Bond, but it smacks of Kung Fu theater minus the poor-but-loveable, English voice-overs.

Transporter 2 did arise to a level of entertainment that may have been unintended. So out-loud-laughable at times were the physics of the movie and so conveniently successful was Mr. Transporter in his multiple rows and fisticuffs that one might easily conclude that they weren't taking themselves too seriously as a cinematic endeavor, if not for anything but the film's sake. You could actually relish the choreography and direction of, respectively, Cory Yuen and Louis Leterrier. Jason Statham's chisel-chinned, blue-steely-gritted-brand-can of arse-whuppin' really does work. His "gig" is his raspy, soft-spoken presentation that belies a man that could both care deeply and turn on the bad-ass in the next second. So the fights with the malcontents wax very slick and careful and are indeed full of quick-paced (if not overproduced) action.

The plot is basically the bristle before the meat and the movie tries to make it somewhat sensitive and important, but it is out of a void. You're there for the gusto. Frank, (Statham), is a former Special Forces commado in Miami carting around Matthew Modine and Amber Valetta's boy, who manages to be kidnapped by some ultra-nasties, headed by Alessandro "Dang-If-I-Ain't-Benicio Del Toro" Gassman and his heroin-chic, blonde, butt-kickin' sadistic bombshell, Lola (Kate Nauta). She likes to rain bulletts whilst in only her skivvies, if for no other reason than to tamper with the hormones of the newly post-pubescent viewers who'd protest the least anyway.

Gassman and Nauta's goon-cast are Neanderthals and warm meat for Frank to only pare through on his way to showing us that there's this real mean virus (in green, glowing vials, of course) that is planned on being released via the little boy. It's okay though....just more plot-as-excuse for the tail-tacking to come.

The baddest bad guys abound and are there only to get their noggin rung (or worse). There truly isn't anything or anyone that will touch Frank. And that is unequivocal. Special pains are taken to parade the discipline Frank has over his own libido, not only to the film's credit, but as a welcome diversion from the lust-driven predecessor to which T2 aspires. Make no mistake, that which Frank denies himself is made up for in the film's anti-hero, who- from her neck up- looks like Maybelline Mascara division's practice bust.

But T2 tries to elicit some scintilla of emotional ground in the story that begs for attention from the outside like a yappy rat-mutt. It can only pass as whimsy in light of the fantastical imagery from the fight sequences that are almost enthroned as parodies of themselves. The comic relief is not in the mildly irritating Francoise Berleand in his reprise of his Transporter role, as we are led to believe. What isn't tolerable is the buffoon of a police force holding Berleand and that they let him piddle around at will. This only a device of convenience for the plot, but it is hardly endearing.

The relief is there when the movie unnervingly resorts to the very poor CG effects of the chopper and the plane (the latter of which I almost could have sworn a green screen and plastic toy would have fared better). I don't know how that could pass in this age of technological movie magic.

Transporter fans will be sated, but whether or not a cinematic establishment is born is another issue, especially with so much fluff undergirding it.