A sexier, glossier, over-saturated sequel that’s packed to the gills with incomprehensible writing and fight choreography so off-the-wall at times that it borders on camp. In action flick terms, it’s a hit.
As I suspected, the style is much sleeker in this Transporter installment, opening right away with curve-hugging pans all around Statham’s signature sedan. Something this film did so much better than the first was turn the featured vehicles into sex symbols, rather than only objectifying the hot leads. Though, to be clear, said hot leads are still very much objectified — Statham’s cool, professional Frank Martin still finds himself with multiple opportunities to rip his shirts off here, plus we’re introduced to a couple of attractive new villains, one of whom openly admits to harboring a violence fetish. Enough viewings of the first Transporter film on TNT as a kid had already given me a weird crush on Jason Statham, but the introduction of Kate Nauta’s manic pixie nightmare girl Lola in this sequel served as a significant awakening for me. The woman literally got paid to strut around in lingerie toting giant guns and licking Jason Statham’s face … she’s an icon in my book!
Statham gets more chances to shine this time too, with some truly whack car chases and a number of imaginative fight scenes, including one strangely charged sequence where he ties up and takes out a dozen bad guys with a wall-mounted fire hose, and another where he dons coconut shell boxing gloves. I couldn’t begin to explain it if I tried, but it gets points for innovation.
Unfortunately, the points this movie gained in style and sex appeal are all but cancelled out by the abysmal writing and laughable CGI. There are some truly groan-worthy lines in here, as well as some absolutely confounding CGI choices … at certain points Lola shoots off these oddly-rendered echolocation-laced explosive bullets that are literally never explained, and at others, we are treated to digital plane crash footage that looks like it was made on a budget of exactly $3. Add to that the most cartoonish, Chemical X-looking “antidote” for the biological weapon these goons are unleashing on humanity, and one is just left scratching their head at a lot of the choices here.
I’ll admit to be being both obsessed and impressed with the fact that they decided to slip in a couple of callbacks to baking madeleines and the “I’m the cook,” line from last time, and I’ll say that it’s impressive to see a mid-2000s action movie so committed to filming things for the straight gaze, yet somehow maintaining a unrelentingly bisexual energy throughout. Despite everything this one has working against it, I remain a fan.
A sexier, glossier, over-saturated sequel that’s packed to the gills with incomprehensible writing and fight choreography so off-the-wall at times that it borders on camp. In action flick terms, it’s a hit.
As I suspected, the style is much sleeker in this Transporter installment, opening right away with curve-hugging pans all around Statham’s signature sedan. Something this film did so much better than the first was turn the featured vehicles into sex symbols, rather than only objectifying the hot leads. Though, to be clear, said hot leads are still very much objectified — Statham’s cool, professional Frank Martin still finds himself with multiple opportunities to rip his shirts off here, plus we’re introduced to a couple of attractive new villains, one of whom openly admits to harboring a violence fetish. Enough viewings of the first Transporter film on TNT as a kid had already given me a weird crush on Jason Statham, but the introduction of Kate Nauta’s manic pixie nightmare girl Lola in this sequel served as a significant awakening for me. The woman literally got paid to strut around in lingerie toting giant guns and licking Jason Statham’s face … she’s an icon in my book!
Statham gets more chances to shine this time too, with some truly whack car chases and a number of imaginative fight scenes, including one strangely charged sequence where he ties up and takes out a dozen bad guys with a wall-mounted fire hose, and another where he dons coconut shell boxing gloves. I couldn’t begin to explain it if I tried, but it gets points for innovation.
Unfortunately, the points this movie gained in style and sex appeal are all but cancelled out by the abysmal writing and laughable CGI. There are some truly groan-worthy lines in here, as well as some absolutely confounding CGI choices … at certain points Lola shoots off these oddly-rendered echolocation-laced explosive bullets that are literally never explained, and at others, we are treated to digital plane crash footage that looks like it was made on a budget of exactly $3. Add to that the most cartoonish, Chemical X-looking “antidote” for the biological weapon these goons are unleashing on humanity, and one is just left scratching their head at a lot of the choices here.
I’ll admit to be being both obsessed and impressed with the fact that they decided to slip in a couple of callbacks to baking madeleines and the “I’m the cook,” line from last time, and I’ll say that it’s impressive to see a mid-2000s action movie so committed to filming things for the straight gaze, yet somehow maintaining a unrelentingly bisexual energy throughout. Despite everything this one has working against it, I remain a fan.
