Review of The Transporter (2002) by Ben S — 22 Mar 2013

Utterly joyful action B-movie starring Jason Statham as Frank "The Transporter" Martin, a man paid to... transport things. An uncomplicated chap, he will deliver any cargo no questions asked and only bound by three personal rules - the deal is the deal, no names, and never EVER open the package. He efficiently goes about his business, keeping his nose clean and living a simple life on the French coast - that is until he breaks his own mantra and looks in the duffel bag he is delivering for criminal kingpin Wall Street (seriously, his name is Wall Street) and discovers the beautiful kidnapped and gagged Lai (Qi Shu). He suffers a crisis of conscience that sets off a chain of events that require Frank to take his shirt off, cave some heads in and cause carnage across the South of France.

Everything an action flick should be, this is short, fun and genuinely exciting - a pure bit of escapism. Since the demise of the bullet proof 80's action hero (including recent limp resurrections) and the rise of superheroes and po-faced dark blockbusters, humour has been sorely missing from the genre. But Jason Statham has stood alone (shirt off, in front of an exploding helicopter) producing a steady stream of solid, entertaining B-movies that provide the sort of gleeful boisterous enjoyment that was once so commonplace. He has enough presence and gruff charisma to carry much worse movies than this - and, refreshingly, never takes himself too seriously, always seemingly aware of how ridiculous everything going on around him is. What little dialogue there is gets his trademark throaty whispered delivery in an accent that falls somewhere between Dagenham and Boston - which just adds to all the fun. The fight sequences have a flavour of Hong Kong with plenty of gang fights and touches of prop slapstick in the style of Jackie Chan. They're all crunchingly physical and well-handled, but don't drag on too long before shifting to another set piece. In fact the whole film doesn't let up for a second, continually just getting on with what little exposition there is and cutting to the next one-liner or action scene - the 92 minutes absolutely fly by.

Written and produced by Luc Besson it has a thoroughly intercontinental feel - Asian martial arts in Mediterranean France performed by a gruff cockney, constructed in the classic Hollywood traditions of action movies - it's a bit of a weird mix that doesn't necessarily fit together that well, but it's all part of The Transporter's charm. A brainless, exhilarating romp that makes the most of our last remaining action hero.