Generally speaking, most remakes and reboots fail to
reinvigorate the original films in any way.
Not only is “The Transporter Refueled” (rebooting the
“Transporter” trilogy that made actor Jason Statham into the action star he is
today) unnecessary and lacking fresh or innovative ideas, its director Camille
Delamarre is in such a hurry (no, make that a full sprint) to get through the
brisk ninety-six minute running time and be done. There’s nothing wrong with a
snappy pace, especially with action movies but if you’ve got nothing
interesting going on, if the characters are paper-thin, the action sloppy and
repetitive, the story dull, then why bother even making the movie to begin
with? “Refueled” evaporates into thin air five seconds after the final credits
role.
After a brief, superfluous opening scene in which a group
Russian baddies take over the prostitution racket in Marseille, France (a feat
apparently as easy and underwhelming as shooting a group of rival gangsters in
front of a nightclub) we’re then introduced to our protagonist Frank (Ed Skrein).
He’s former Spec Op’s now working as a transporter (via car) of any package,
legal or illegal. He’s hired by a quartet of sexy prostitutes who are looking to
get back at their boss (one of those Russian baddies from the opening scene).
The picture zips from one scene to another without giving us a chance to fully
absorb or comprehend what’s happening. As the movie goes on the twists and turns
of the screenplay (by Adam Cooper, Bill Collage, and Luc Besson) become
increasingly jumbled and convoluted, due mainly in part to the movie’s
relentless, breakneck speed. The final twist is revealed and passed over so
quickly that it’s rendered nonsensical.
I suppose the film moves swiftly to mask its utter lack of
creativity and depth. The French setting is so flat and nondescript the actors
might as well be performing in front of a limp cardboard set on a soundstage.
The action sequences are sloppy-- shot using drab hand held camera, (by
cinematographer Christophe Collette) while the editing is twitchy and
disorienting, as if editor Julien Rey drank one too many double shot lattes before
sitting down to work. The continuity is muddled; you often lose track of what’s
going on and how each character fit into the craziness. What’s most
disappointing is the sequences are uninspired. We have a run of the mill
“get-away-from-the-cops” car chase, wherein about six or seven cop cars are
smashed to a pulp. There are around five repetitive melee fights in which Frank
gets to show off his martial art skills, (pretty much mimicking Statham’s moves
from the original films) and a scene where characters have to get off a moving
plane as it drives along a runway.
Making matters worse, the characters have less personality
than the inanimate movie theater chair I was sitting in during the advanced
screening. Frank is set up as this methodical warrior type who follows a
self-imposed code of conduct. He doesn’t carry a gun or ask for names of his
clients. Once a deal is struck up between the client there’s no going back on
it, etc. (All of these “codes” are from the original trilogy by the way. Yet another way this movie does nothing to seperate itself from the original). However
this is all just window dressing and soon enough he turns into yet another
one-dimensional tough guy to carry out action movie clichés. Meanwhile, the
prostitutes are interchangeable one from another. On some level it seems like the movie is aware of the shallowness and
indistinguishable nature of these female characters.When they rob a bank at the
beginning they all wear the same blonde wigs and skimpy black dresses (to hide
their identities) and go on to spend a majority of the movie in these same identical
guises. You can't tell them apart, although evenwithout the guises you still couldn't distinguish them. As for the Russian antagonists? They’re so forgettable that at one
point (I’d say about fifteen minutes in) the movie feels the need to remind us they were the ones in the
opening scene. Once again, the movie seems to be aware of how thin and
unmemorable its characters are.
As the new Transporter, Skrein is cold, grimacing and devoid
of charm. Perhaps it would have been better if he were to loosen up and have
some fun with the role instead of simply doing a C grade Statham impression. The
rest of the actors look as though they would rather be anywhere else, hastily
reciting their lines with zero emotion or energy. Attempts at witty repartee
come off awkward and forced. This is an outrageous B action movie, why is
everyone so damn serious? Only Ray Stevenson as Frank’s retired spy father
looks like he’s having any fun—injecting the character with a streak of smart
alecky playfulness.
“Transporter Refueled” is a mess —an amalgamation of
derivative, poorly shot action set pieces, wafer thin characters and a rushed,
convoluted story. The producer and cowriter is Luc Besson who also produced and
co-wrote the original films. Why did he feel the need to reboot his own
franchise without any innovation or purpose? We’ll never know.
D-
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