When I was a kid, I hated spinach. Because I hated spinach and because I was a naïve little kid at the time, I associated that hatred with other vegetables that I’d never even tried like brussel sprouts, cabbage and okra. Well, though I still stand by my disgust of okra, when I actually sat myself down and tried the brussel sprouts and cabbage, I find I liked them. Hell, I even warmed up to spinach with enough exposure! What’s all of this mean? The Transporter is spinach and Crank is brussel sprouts.
Though I wanted to be able to pop wood over The Transporter, that never happened. There was enough going on to keep me interested, but there was also some stuff that I couldn’t accept. Jason Statham is awesome, I’ve been digging the man since Snatch (and that’s only because I didn’t see Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels until after that), but The Transporter just never clicked and left me with an unsure sensation in my gut when it comes to the man starring in an action role. In lieu of this, I wasn’t chomping at the bit to see Crank when it hit theaters last year. But, ever since moving around the corner from the world’s only good Blockbuster store and joining blockbuster.com, I’ve been getting coupons for free rentals, including games and new release movies. Since the pud smacking motherfuckers who rented out all their copies of “Elebits” will never be returning them, I’ve been sticking with DVDs. This week’s was Crank… and by the end of it, I wish I’d made the effort to see it in the theater.
Chev Chelios (Jason Statham) is the head cleaner for Carlito (Carlos Sanz), the biggest gang leader in the city o’ angels. The problem with being number one is that there’s always 20 guys looking to knock you off and make a name for themselves: enter Verona (Jose Cantillo), Chev’s career nemesis. When Chev starts off the movie, Verona and his amigos have knocked our anti-hero unconscious and injected a synthetic Chinese virus into his system (referred to as a “Beijing Cocktail”) that, once bonded to his blood, will shut his body down within an hour. After discovering this little fact as portrayed to him via a DVD surprise left by Verona in Chev’s living room, Mr. Chelios is less than happy about his one hour lifeline. Turns out he can extend his 60 minute expectancy though, so long as he keeps his blood pumping and the adrenaline spraying from his glands like a busted fire hydrant. Through cocaine, high-caffeine drinks, public sex, epinephrine shots (and nasal sprays), headbanging to Billy Ray Cyrus and engaging in more than a few instances of self-inflicted bodily harm, Chev pushes his body to the limit as he seeks to take out Verona, say goodbye to his girlfriend (Amy Smart) and maybe, just maybe, find a cure for his fatal diagnosis.
Crank is the freshman effort of writing and directing duo of Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor who, between the two of them, really have nothing on their resumes that would make me think I’d want to watch any movie the two would put together, let alone their first. The story is good enough for an action movie’s premise and as long as you don’t expect anything too cerebral from your popcorn flicks, you should be all set. It borrows from a previously made 1996 flick called Rage. Not enough to incite a law suit I don't think, but enough to give some people deja vu. The direction is very action-packed, “punches you in the mouth and makes you ask for more” style and the action itself is great. There’s little time for the viewer to stop and question the content of the movie because we’re too busy watching Statham try not to die and push himself to the breaking point (not to be confused with Point Break) and laughing along with the absurdity and humor that’s almost as prominent as the balls-to-the-wall pace. There are a couple of slow down points that mellowed the pace out a little and I’m not sure if these were hindrances to the movie or an opportunity for everyone to catch their breath. Also, there are a number of moments where I couldn’t help but think that both Neveldine and Taylor are fans of Guy Ritchie… BIG fans… not that that’s a bad thing, so long as they don’t continue their careers by putting their girlfriends in pointless remakes of throw away romantic comedies… and killing me a little more inside.
The cast is serviceable with the exception of Statham who’s the new king of bad-assitude, craziness and charisma. If this was 30 years ago, he’d be a Limey version of Clint Eastwood: rough, intimidating, confident and ready to crack your cajones at the drop of a hat. Amy Smart, Reno Wilson (who plays a friend and informant to Statham) and Carlos Sanz were about as good as I expected (which isn’t meant as an insult) and Jose Cantillo oversold his part a bit, though some will enjoy it more than others. Efren Ramirez (Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite) also appears in the movie as Chevy’s transgender party boy stoolie and manages to steal more than a few scenes, one of which involves him hitting a big one-handed Mexican dude in the head with a rolling pin. Why does this guy have one hand? Here’s the equation: Jason Statham + meat cleaver = radical surgery. The most surprising performance from the flick has to come from country music singer Dwight Yoakam though, who was excellent as Chevy’s underground physician Doc Miles. Just another surprise in a popcorn box full of ‘em… a box of fluffy, butter drizzled super popcorn that’s sprinkled with coke and packed with the artificial flavoring of awesomeness.
The only problem with this groovy popcorn we got here? A couple of CGI moments played speed bumps to this nitro burning funny car. I can accept computer generated images if they’re of killer robots and man-eating space ogres and shit, but I don’t see any excuse to pull this kind of crap on me in terms of cars and explosions. Not all of the stunt work and action sequences were littered with it, but the few that were planted themselves in my bridge work and left me picking and flossing at them all fucking night. I almost would have pushed this flick into 100% territory if not for those fucking CGI cars! BLARGH!
Anyway, see this movie. Sex, violence, crazy action and plenty of laugh-out-loud moments to keep your bowl full of jelly in seizures for a good portion of the 87 minute running time. It’s the movie that by which all future Statham vehicles (and most action movies in the Anubis household from here on out) will be judged.
