Cinema Verdict Review: The Mechanic

The Mechanic

OPENING: 01/28/2011

STUDIO: CBS Films

RUN TIME: 100 min

ACCOMPLICES:
Trailer, Official Site

The Charge
Someone has to fix the problems.

Opening Statement
How do you describe The Mechanic? At times exciting, at times revolting, Simon West’s film churns out sex and violence at an alarming, even despicable, rate and caters splendidly to its lowly audience. Those seeking senseless carnage and raunchy sex should enjoy the action on display. Personally I enjoy my action with a little more brains and a lot more character.

Facts of the Case
Arthur (Jason Statham) works as a full time assassin – his task entails killing people by making their deaths look like an accident. After years of being on his own, Arthur decide to take on a young protégé (Ben Foster) whose father (Donald Sutherland) has just been killed – by Arthur. The two develop an unlikely friendship, but soon find themselves on the run from the agency that hired them after a mission goes horribly awry. Arthur’s skills will be tested as he must decide how far he is willing to go to see the mission through.

The Evidence
A legion of papers could be written about Jason Statham’s films and the manner in which they conduct themselves. Statham, the man, remains a likeable brute, what with his roguish demeanor and raspy voice that makes him sound like an overseas version of Clint Eastwood circa 1970; the actor was built for action pics in the same way Meg Ryan was built for romantic comedy. Problem is, as Statham’s career progresses that likeability continues to bury itself beneath endlessly violent, sexist films that make Ah-nold Schwarzenegger’s action pictures of the 1980s look like episodes of Full House (in terms of morality).

Take, for example, a moment early in The Mechanic when Statham, playing Arthur, the lone wolf assassin who feels no remorse for the deeds he carries out, happens upon a sexy woman dancing in a bar. Arthur examines her like every macho hero would (by rubbing his mouth as though pining over a succulent steak) while she flirtatiously shakes her trunk in his direction. The two exchange a few words before jumping into the sack where a montage of flesh, breasts and rhythmic humping consumes the screen. The lady, having accomplished her task, gets up for some food, and has just gotten to the fridge when Arthur appears and declares, “I’m leaving.” The woman–I’m guessing a prostitute–shrugs, utters a few brief sentences and then disappears until our protagonist feels the needs to, ahem, clean his pipes later in the film. (In point of fact, the woman’s name is never mentioned.)

Such is the nature of Simon West’s (Con Air) The Mechanic, a dim-witted actioner drenched, for whatever reason, in a layer of overwrought sexual perversion and an almost intolerable hankering for bloody, repulsive violence. I haven’t seen this much senseless carnage onscreen since Sly Stallone’s The Expendables (also starring Statham), but at least that film had one positive female presence. The Mechanic’s female personalities, if you want to call them that, consist of the aforementioned prostitute, two porn stars, a woman at a bar who asks a man to abuse her sexually, and a flimsy assistant who generously offers herself to a large religious personality and whose only line is, “I’m eighteen.” Oh, I missed the two women who are held at gunpoint, and then nearly forced down the garbage disposal–only “nearly” because our society has yet to reach that level of perversion. Give us about five more years.

I understand these men aren’t heroes. Arthur kills people; Steve wants to learn how to kill people. Obviously neither will be shooting the breeze with honest folk anytime soon. And yet, there’s something telling when a film like The Mechanic manages to slime its way into theaters disguised as entertainment, carrying little in the way of value. People die, as they do in films of this genre, but there’s no point to them dying. After an assassination attempt goes awry, the victims’ guards pull out pistols and give chase. The sequence is splendidly shot, and well executed (in terms of style and tension), but I kept asking myself why that particular person would need guards with assault rifles–because if the guards didn’t have guns, then there would be no action.

At another point, bad guys armed with impressive firepower move in on Arthur at a boat house. Actually, what these men do is kill the man guarding the boat house, leave him in the water, drive away, then return once Arthur arrives (screeching tires and all), only to be duped because Arthur–get this–is hiding in the water! They don’t know that, of course, because if they did the movie would end.

Films like The Mechanic assume their core audience entails young, adolescent, ADD-hampered perverts who get off watching macho action stars engage in savage dick swinging contests. I, for one, want more and expect more. I don’t always need depth, or logic for that matter, as long as the film arrives at some sort of reasonable conclusion, or something akin to a point. The Mechanic doesn’t have a point, or purpose. It exists to demonstrate violence and to show off Statham’s muscular physique, and to demonstrate the ways in which women apparently live to service men.

Then again, I’d be remiss if I said I didn’t enjoy The Mechanic in spades. West, ever the showman, knows how to execute action scenes, having graduated from the Michael Bay school of “Money Shots.” The film looks great, and moves along at a nice pace. A brutal fight sequence between Steve and a rather large assassin had me riveted; as did an early scene involving a car jacker. Such sequences ground the film in a certain kind of reality, one in which Statham’s one-dimensional personality cannot exist.

Statham has long sulked through his pictures like a video game interpretation of Bruce Willis, except without the slick one-liners. He’s reached a point in his career, though, where his safety is never in doubt because he remains one step ahead of everyone else and refuses to display his weaknesses. The Mechanic throws him off buildings, pins him up against deadly shoot outs and vindictive personalities, but he cannot/will not die. He’s cooler than everyone onscreen; the women love him; the bad guys fear him. He fears no one. He drives the coolest cars, carries the coolest weapon. He’s a walking, living, breathing cartoon.

Steve, on the other hand, claws his way to the finale, bleeding, bruised and ragged. He makes mistakes, takes risks; you like him because Foster plays him with nerve-wracking energy. He could pop at any moment, or die just the same. His is the most realistic personality on display–Foster is riveting.

As such, the two actors never settle comfortably with one another onscreen. I cannot decide if this is a Jason Statham film bolstered (somewhat) by a terrific performance from Ben Foster, or a Ben Foster film weighed down by Jason Statham. Either way, The Mechanic, despite its technical bravura, never fully ignites.

There was a chance here to make a really good film, one that examines the life of an assassin and his young recruit, and then focuses on the consequences, if any, of their actions. Unfortunately, West and his screenwriters aren’t interested in such trivial things as character, plot, or logic. They want to make stuff blow up real good, and give men a reason to whoop and holler like idiots.

Mission accomplished.

Closing Statement
The Mechanic contains a plethora of action set pieces, some of which are quite exciting, but never really gels as a film. Ben Foster is wasted in a well-written role that belongs in another film, one that caters to a more intelligent crowd and not those who’ve become accustomed to Jason Statham’s one-note performances.

The Verdict
6/10