Dave's Rating:


Lots and lots of explosions.

Who's In It: Jason Statham, Jeroen Krabbe

The Basics: The Transporter is given a mystery job--a forced one because the bad guys put an exploding bracelet on him that will detonate his bald head into a million stubbly pieces if he disobeys--transporting a bag of something across Europe or else the other thing the bad guys will do is explode half the continent with nuclear waste. Anyway, the bag turns out to be a trick and his real job is transporting the single most annoying Ukranian woman ever invented. But none of that's important. The important stuff is the violence and there's A WHOLE LOT OF THAT.

What's The Deal: The third time is a little less of a charm here because the series has become aware of itself. I know that's kind of a hoity-toity observation but it's also true. The first two films were straight-up insane, impossible action, a stone-faced everythug with perpetual five-o'clock shadow in a suit flipping through the air and putting entire groups of baddies into ambulances or bodybags. And then the female and gay male audience discovered the stealth sexiness of watching that sort of thing happen. Then that secret got out. And now the filmmakers know about it. So in this film you get the Ukranian woman forcing Statham into a striptease and a subsequent "love-making" and let's-cuddle-on-a-grassy-knoll scene. But the effect is like Opposite Day. It's hot to watch the guy beating the crap out of other people. It's not hot watching him be "hot." In other words, it's like when a cute kid realizes it's cute. Magic = over.

But Again, That's Not The Important Part: The important part is still all the super-violence and cars being driven sideways at 200 mph and face-kickery and giant goons taking shovels to the skull. Also, explosions. Lots and lots of explosions. Cars, trains, humans, everything. Exploding all over the place. Big huge explosions. It will happily erase the boring, self-conscious "sexytime" antics.

What It All Means: Nothing. It's effective genre filmmaking, James Bond on a budget, nothing more than that, but fight-choreographed by the extra rad Corey Yuen and directed by a dude whose last name is--no lie--Megaton.


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