It’s the threequel that everybody demanded. It isn’t? Well, too bad, you’re getting it as Jason Statham returns and he’s even more Transporter-ier than ever. I admit, as a sucker for brainless action flicks, I enjoyed the first Transporter and the sequel at least went over the top with its ludicrous action sequences. The latest installment tries to be a grittier Transporter with goofy action scenes, but can’t have it both ways.
The plot (as if it matters) recycles the original film and throws in the added complication of an explosive bracelet that would blow Jason Statham up if he gets too far from his car. Statham can sleepwalk through these taciturn badass roles even if the story is completely interchangeable with whatever latest Transporter/Crank/Death Race movie he’s doing. And T-Bag from Prison Break is an excellent choice to play the villain, although I’m not exactly sure why the bad guy needs to hire the Transporter when he already has an army of minions at his beck and call.
Of the film’s many faults, the first comes from the ridiculously named Olivier Megaton (second only to McG) who directs the film with the subtlety of his namesake bomb. Megaton uses fast forwards, slow motion shots, flash cuts, and anything else he might have seen on MTV. It’s like the camera is on an eternal sugar rush. The absolute worst of all is newcomer Natalya Rudakova, an annoying little ginger with a poor command of the English language. At one point, she wants to “make the sex” with the Transporter. When Frank turns her turn, she asks if he is "the gay." Their forced romance is completely unbelievable (not to mention creepy, she looks seriously underaged) and grinds the movie to a sudden halt. And since this is PG-13, you get no boobs or butt shot. What’s the point?
Rating: *
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