”Somebody has to punish the corrupt.”
Or maybe somebody should punish the folks who can’t seem to put together a good Punisher movie. Out of all the comic book characters there are, the Punisher should be one of the easiest to pull off. No superpowers, no goofy outfit, no crazy comic book science to explain, and no need for $200 million in special effects. Just one mean badass with a shitload of guns. War Zone follows in the tepid footsteps of the no-budget Dolph Lundgren version and the so-so Thomas Jane vehicle. Was the third time the charm? It’s leaps and bounds ahead of the previous versions, but pales in comparison to The Dark Knight and Iron Man in terms of 2008’s comic book adaptations. It has more in common with testosterone-fueled action flicks like Commando or Rambo.
War Zone takes the Punisher back to his roots, plopping him down into the seedy streets of New York City (though it was actually shot in Montreal). Dark, cold tones with neon highlights, a far cry from the sunny beaches of Tampa. His origin remains much closer to the source material and is briefly seen in flashbacks so we can get right into the action. This iteration of Frank Castle is the brooding, taciturn killing machine he needed to be. The man doesn’t even speak his first lines until about half an hour into the movie. Who has time for action hero one-liners when you’re hanging upside-down from a crystal chandelier pumping several hundred rounds of ammo into the bodies of hapless goombas? This is a Punisher who doesn’t bother with Machiavellian schemes involving fire hydrants. Not when he can punch his fist through someone’s face or stab a man through the eye with a chair leg. The violence is like an Itchy & Scratchy episode. The film also features the best use of a rocket launcher in cinematic history. This is a Punisher who really does some serious punishing.
Ray Stevenson fits the role of Frank Castle perfectly. He’s big, mean, and looks like he’s seen some serious shit. Stevenson is the Bradstreet Punisher come to life. Even Wayne Knight (“Newman…”) has some good scenes with Stevenson as the Punisher’s tech-guy, Micro. The rest of the cast doesn’t fare so well on the other hand. Dominic West (McNulty!) goes over over-the-top as Frank’s facially mangled arch-enemy, Jigsaw. West switches from narcissistic mob boss to cartoon character in a heartbeat, a combination of Jack Nicholson’s Joker with a Dick Tracy villain. The same goes for Doug Hutchison as Jigsaw’s cannibalistic brother, Loony Bin Jim, an original creation of screenwriter Nick Santora. Julie Benz (who I usually adore) plays the same damsel in distress role as she did in Rambo, but now with a poor New York accent. In fact, nearly everybody in the film has a bad stereotypical accent, be it Italian, New York, Russian, or Irish.
The film also spreads itself too thin by throwing in far too many characters. The filmmakers mined Garth Ennis’s seminal run on the Punisher MAX series to fill out the supporting cast. There’s sad sack NYPD detective Martin Soap, Paul Budiansky (another NYPD detective in the comics, now an FBI agent), black Irishman Maginty, and Russian gangsters the Bulats. Despite this being his film, the Punisher becomes marginalized too often in favor of characters that are essentially cannon fodder. As a fan of the MAX series, I felt a lot of great villains were wasted. Nicky Cavella is turned into an undercover FBI agent, his psychotic henchmen Ink & Pittsy are now comic relief toadies, and the Bulats (from one of the best Punisher stories ever) are barely a blip on the radar.
In their zeal to create a sympathetic lead, the filmmakers tend to humanize Frank a little too much. Despondent over accidentally killing an undercover officer, he contemplates giving up his alter-ego. After all, we've never seen that in a comic book movie.
In his review, Roger Ebert called War Zone “one of the best-made bad movies.” That hits the nail on the head. Punisher: War Zone is a film for those who are looking for an hour and a half of mindless violence. It’s a throwback to the 80’s style action film. Taken at that level, it works. Lexi Alexander, a German-born kickboxing champion, joins a tiny club of female action directors whose only other member I can think of is Kathryn Bigelow. Alexander handles the gun battles and fight scenes well without relying on the Bourne-style of quick edits and tight close-ups. A guilty pleasure all the way.
Rating: ***
Or maybe somebody should punish the folks who can’t seem to put together a good Punisher movie. Out of all the comic book characters there are, the Punisher should be one of the easiest to pull off. No superpowers, no goofy outfit, no crazy comic book science to explain, and no need for $200 million in special effects. Just one mean badass with a shitload of guns. War Zone follows in the tepid footsteps of the no-budget Dolph Lundgren version and the so-so Thomas Jane vehicle. Was the third time the charm? It’s leaps and bounds ahead of the previous versions, but pales in comparison to The Dark Knight and Iron Man in terms of 2008’s comic book adaptations. It has more in common with testosterone-fueled action flicks like Commando or Rambo.
War Zone takes the Punisher back to his roots, plopping him down into the seedy streets of New York City (though it was actually shot in Montreal). Dark, cold tones with neon highlights, a far cry from the sunny beaches of Tampa. His origin remains much closer to the source material and is briefly seen in flashbacks so we can get right into the action. This iteration of Frank Castle is the brooding, taciturn killing machine he needed to be. The man doesn’t even speak his first lines until about half an hour into the movie. Who has time for action hero one-liners when you’re hanging upside-down from a crystal chandelier pumping several hundred rounds of ammo into the bodies of hapless goombas? This is a Punisher who doesn’t bother with Machiavellian schemes involving fire hydrants. Not when he can punch his fist through someone’s face or stab a man through the eye with a chair leg. The violence is like an Itchy & Scratchy episode. The film also features the best use of a rocket launcher in cinematic history. This is a Punisher who really does some serious punishing.
Ray Stevenson fits the role of Frank Castle perfectly. He’s big, mean, and looks like he’s seen some serious shit. Stevenson is the Bradstreet Punisher come to life. Even Wayne Knight (“Newman…”) has some good scenes with Stevenson as the Punisher’s tech-guy, Micro. The rest of the cast doesn’t fare so well on the other hand. Dominic West (McNulty!) goes over over-the-top as Frank’s facially mangled arch-enemy, Jigsaw. West switches from narcissistic mob boss to cartoon character in a heartbeat, a combination of Jack Nicholson’s Joker with a Dick Tracy villain. The same goes for Doug Hutchison as Jigsaw’s cannibalistic brother, Loony Bin Jim, an original creation of screenwriter Nick Santora. Julie Benz (who I usually adore) plays the same damsel in distress role as she did in Rambo, but now with a poor New York accent. In fact, nearly everybody in the film has a bad stereotypical accent, be it Italian, New York, Russian, or Irish.
The film also spreads itself too thin by throwing in far too many characters. The filmmakers mined Garth Ennis’s seminal run on the Punisher MAX series to fill out the supporting cast. There’s sad sack NYPD detective Martin Soap, Paul Budiansky (another NYPD detective in the comics, now an FBI agent), black Irishman Maginty, and Russian gangsters the Bulats. Despite this being his film, the Punisher becomes marginalized too often in favor of characters that are essentially cannon fodder. As a fan of the MAX series, I felt a lot of great villains were wasted. Nicky Cavella is turned into an undercover FBI agent, his psychotic henchmen Ink & Pittsy are now comic relief toadies, and the Bulats (from one of the best Punisher stories ever) are barely a blip on the radar.
In their zeal to create a sympathetic lead, the filmmakers tend to humanize Frank a little too much. Despondent over accidentally killing an undercover officer, he contemplates giving up his alter-ego. After all, we've never seen that in a comic book movie.
In his review, Roger Ebert called War Zone “one of the best-made bad movies.” That hits the nail on the head. Punisher: War Zone is a film for those who are looking for an hour and a half of mindless violence. It’s a throwback to the 80’s style action film. Taken at that level, it works. Lexi Alexander, a German-born kickboxing champion, joins a tiny club of female action directors whose only other member I can think of is Kathryn Bigelow. Alexander handles the gun battles and fight scenes well without relying on the Bourne-style of quick edits and tight close-ups. A guilty pleasure all the way.
Rating: ***
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