Dir. Louis Leterrier, 2005, France/US, 87 mins
Cast:
Jason Statham, Alessandro Gassman, Amber Valletta
You know those Orange commercials in which some poor celebrity tries to convince a panel of salesmen to back their project, only to find every idea twisted into an excuse to use a mobile phone? Have you ever suspected that this might not be a satire but actually the way films are run? Take Transporter 2, for instance. It's not just that cellphones are omnipresent throughout - it's the fact that when one packs up, Jason Statham merely reaches into his glove compartment to find four more neatly stacked and waiting! And the product placement doesn't stop there. The opening shot gorges itself on Statham's car, lit to full advantage and standing improbably alone in a gleaming multi-story car park. Then we cut to.a state-of-the-art watch in glorious close-up.
This is James Bond for the boys' toys generation, an advertiser's dream where the emphasis is not on characterisation and plot but on vehicular masturbation. Planes, buses, jet skis - they all enter the chase somewhere. Fittingly, Letterier's style of direction is hyperactive and non-naturalistic, aping the slick world of TV commercials. The trademark mix of violence, gadgets and - well, curiously, not sex, as Statham shows an English reserve on that point - is sent wildly over-the-top. This works in the film's favour when it comes to the action sequences which are so ridiculous even the most dour spectator will find themselves laughing along. So rejoice in the melon-fisted punch-ups, helium missiles in a doctor's surgery and a particularly deft way to get rid of a car bomb.
Just don't expect much of a hero. We've come a long way from the suave urbanity of 007 and the "vest" films of Bruce Willis, the cocksure if vulnerable working-class joe. Now we get a Ross Kemp lookalike trying to do an American accent. Statham can pull off the moves all right but his strong and silent routine isn't fooling anybody - he's hiding about as much personality as a Streatham bouncer. And there's no conceivable reason for someone like Amber Valletta to fall dizzily into his arms.
Ah, yes, the lady of the piece. She's married to a top-level politician heavily involved in fighting drug racketeers. But she prefers the chauffeur's.er, rugged charms. In this respect, the film belongs to that tradition of American action movies in which the selfless acts of the hero are thrown into relief by the introduction of a nasty, rich WASP who only cares about his reputation and wealth. Here, though, that character happens to be the father of the boy whose kidnap precipitates Statham's quest. It's slightly disturbing to note how clearly the kid places more faith in his violent rescuer than in his law-abiding - and therefore impotent - parent. In drawing a comparison between these two father figures, Transporter 2 seems to be advocating force over diplomacy as the best means of action and the tough guy as the best role-model for Junior. Then there's the paean to the loner. You can never trust the police or the authorities in these kind of films. They're hopeless. No, you need a one-man army, an individual with, of course, generous access to armaments. There is perhaps no more disturbing undertone in the modern thriller - that society cannot be relied upon, it's every man for himself. And don't the eyes of gun manufacturers everywhere just light up at those words.
But you can be too serious about these things. If Transporter 2 was interested in messages, it would have a hero who can string more than two sentences together. It's not - it's interested in car chases, CGI-enhanced stunts, girls with big guns and miniscule underwear and well-pressed suits. And on all those counts, it delivers.
Mike Bartlett |
