"Transporter 3" -- Movie Review

Due in part to a rash of recent temporal anomalies, but largely to the tawdry lifestyle of The Editor, the following review is well beyond recent... but if you haven't read it, it's new to you! And so, ONWARD!

I haven't decided whether I should recommend “Transporter 3” to you or not. It's a fantastically fun movie to be sure, and yet parts will push you back in your chair and just about roll your eyes for you -- but, oddly enough, the scenes I'm talking about will not be the ones where the filmmakers blatantly, and with unrepentant joy, rape the laws of physics on the screen. The guilty scenes are found in the subplot of blossoming romance between Frank Martin (Jason “Bad Ass” Statham) and his cargo Valentina (Natalya “Making Freckles Ungodly Sexy” Rudakova).

Those scenes press the audience's level of suspension of disbelief, not because of the age difference, but because the dialogue was written by what must have been a hopelessly romantic junior-high-schooler, with such gems as: “No, that's what you're thinking. I'm talking about what you're feeling.”

And yet, when the movie is not concerning itself with blasé emotion or focusing on the sizzling sex appeal of its stars -- as both of them are undeniably pretty people -- it's giving you a healthy dose of impossibly unrealistic action sequences that hark back to the days of “Commando.” It's a fine way to wile away an hour and forty minutes on a Saturday night.

Now, a word about the action sequences: I enjoyed the way the director, the fantastically named Olivier Megaton, used a steady cam for certain action scenes. Sure there are cuts, but they're there only to switch views and done entirely without our old foe The Shaky Cam. Not to mention that he seems to be just as in love with Rudakova as the audience is.

There were times where I couldn't shake the sense, both from Rudakova and Statham, that they could be doing better. They were simply not pushed to do so. That, I blame on the script, co-written by Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen. But since I love Luc Besson, I'll credit him with the the good stuff and blame the other guy for the stuff I didn't like. Is that not professional? Then you're going to hate this next line.

For those of you who might scoff at the non-realism displayed by Frank Martin and his Audi, might I remind you to blow it out your ass? (Told ya.) It's a “Transporter” movie. The previous entry into this series had Statham breaking a dude's back in an underwater fight inside the hull of a recently submerged airplane.

Should any human being ever one-arm a rocket launcher? Arnold Schwarzenegger, I'm looking your way. No. Do I need to see Stallone, in a business suit, standing in front of an oncoming bus, almost daring the bus to hit him? No.

But that's the fun of a great bad action movie, and “Transporter 3” is just that. Stuff 'splodes; impossibly sexy girls from Czechoslovakia get themselves into distress; and our hero will sit in his car, all steely eyed, on a bridge with both exits blocked, surrounded by machine-gun-toting henchmen. And yet miraculously, amid the hail of bullets, no one will be hit -- even though the bad guys stand on opposite sides of the hero, unloading ungodly ordinance and their enemy and each other. Trapped, our hero has only one option left to him: he must drive...

And if you need me to finish that sentence, this movie is not for you.

/ 5


Yours Until Hell Freezes Over,
Jeremiah