Hangover Theater
Transporter & Transporter II / Brian Prisco
I drink cheap beer. While I can appreciate the finer niceties of a microbrew, I prefer to wage war on my waistline with a frosty can of PBR, or any of the other frat beverages du jour that will fill a red plastic Beirut cup or dissolve the date rape drugs. It goes down easy, my world view lightens, and I find myself dancing on pianos while shrieking bridal shower parties stuff singles into my pants. Which was a much more convenient and less publicly humiliating way to pay off my bar tab before the advent of cell phone videos and YouTube. But the point is, despite the supposed lowly peasant quality of my potent potable, it makes me feel glorious and gets the fucking job done.
Such is the case with my selection for this week’s Hangover Theatre, the delightful backflip-roundoff combo of The Transporter and The Transporter 2, which are featured back to glistening, shirtless back on F/X this weekend. Neither Transporter film is particularly of high-quality in terms of plot or logic, but they excel in the necessary category of mind-numbingly fun action sequences. For pondering over glasses of brandy and cigars in the smoking lounge or even lattes amidst the laptop clatter of “writers” in the local coffee shop, it may curdle the fine cheese of conversation. But for lying half-passed out on your couch while the afternoon rays of the cruel sun play Simon on your frontal lobe, accept no substitutes.
Both movies came from the mind of Luc Besson (and Robert Mark Kamen) so it makes sense they would have a fighting chance at being bastions of awesomeness. With the mixed bag of Besson, for every Leon the Professional or The Fifth Element, we get an Arthur and the Invisibles or Revolver — yes, the sonofabitching Guy Ritchie’s attempt at getting his groove back EPIC FAIL. The first movie was directed by Corey Yuen, who ends up choreographing most of the fight work in the second film. Yuen’s pedigree is pretty decent, working mostly with Jet Li on things like Hero and Black Mask II. Louis Leterrier helped to direct the first Transporter and did the heavy work on Transporter 2, which I find to be the more balls-out ridiculous of the two films, and ultimately the more enjoyable one to watch. Leterrier and Besson teamed up before on the supremely underrated and fantastically enjoyable Danny the Dog (Unleashed), which is easily my all-time favorite Jet Li/Bob Hoskins action film. The three of these fellas know how to craft a story around hard-fighting badasses.
The Transporter is essentially the tale of Frank Martin, a driver for hire who adheres to a samurai code of ethics. Both films feature a suave Jason Statham wearing a suit and beating the shit out of henchmen in suits. He defies the laws of physics and logic with his flailing limbs and sleek operation of shiny black automobiles. When naming his penis, the genital generator would short circuit like Ally Sheedy’s career. Despite the exorbitant number of times Statham’s black dress shoes connect with faces, chests, and mansion doorways, the movie manages to maintain a healthy PG-13 rating. While the Transporters fail to crack the upper echelon of action movies because of their lack of R-rated bloodshed, they shine supremely under the unforgiving razor of cable television editing, gleaming with the Eye of the Tiger.
The first Transporter is a little more Bushido than Bourne, focusing mostly on the ronin mentality of Martin and his code of ethics. Even when offered more money to drive his quarry of bank robbers further, he takes only his share and sends them on their way. Sure, he may be breaking the law, but he refuses to bend his own rules. It’s by adhering to such a strict regimen that Martin is able to stay on the up and up, even when shadowed by the charming local constabulary Detective Tarconi, played with aplomb by Francois Berleand. Predictably, the movie ends up taking a turn when Martin breaks his own code, opening up the “package” he’s paid to deliver. It turns out to be a tiny Asian girl (Shu Qi). (That’s why I always send my Asians UPS. FedEx tends misplace people on islands with bloody volleyballs.) Apparently, her crime lord father (Ric Young) decided to have her kidnapped and sent to his partner, some kind of swaggering trust fund douche named Wall Street (Matt Schulze). Wall Street tries to blow up Statham, which is a terrible mistake, and leads to him rescuing the girl, and then causing a ruckus and …Yeah, trying to trace the wobbly plot on this one is like Clark Griswold untangling Christmas tree lights. It’s better to forget it and just watch Jason Statham kick ass.
The entire purpose of the Transporter is for Jason Statham to take off his shirt and fuck up Eurotrash. The movie is pretty useless whenever Statham isn’t shooting at anyone or zooming around in a high-octane action sequence. This is why it’s the perfect bloomin’ onion to your Hangover Viewing buffet. You can doze off and not miss a damn step. There’s an attempt to build a bizarre love angle between Frank and the young Asian girl, which involves Madeline cookies and Luc Besson’s continuing obsession with having bad guys fire rockets at the good guys. Woo’s got doves, Besson’s got missiles. After escaping, Jason Statham and the girl get horizontal. It doesn’t make any fucking sense, but frankly, who am I to blame a girl for doing Jason Statham? It might not have even been in the script, she just might have been sucked in by his all-consuming charisma.
Anyway, the rest of the movie involves some sort of plot with Wall Street and the Asian girl’s daddy in the worst toupee since Bruce McCullough stuck a squirrel on his head so nobody would know his secret. They have a truckload of illegal Chinese immigrants they’ve smuggled into Monaco, and Statham has to stop them, rescue the girl, and save the day. If there were better villains, this might not have been too bad of a sequence. Statham asswhoops his way across a loading dock, and then ends up on top of the truck, driving with every part of his body except his hands while he punches, kicks, shoots and swerves in a tractor-trailer. While I was trying to enjoy the total goofiness of the sequence, I kept getting distracted by the thought that presumably the back of the truck was full of smuggled immigrants, who by all rights should have been pasted around the insides like so much Kung Pao goo. The villians are pretty weak here as well. Ric Young is like Richard Dawson in The Running Man, only he lacks the amusing kitchy performance, the smarmy dialogue, and nobody fires him through a billboard in a rocket sled. Then we’ve got Matt Schulze, who I swore to Godtupus must have gone to the Cole Hauser Upstairs College of Swarthy Villainy. Then I looked Schulze up on IMDB, and sure as shitfire, the motherfucker was actually in The Fast and The Furious. He’s perfectly serviceable as a middle-management goon, but as supreme boss, not so much.
Transporter 2 decides to totally throw any semblance of plausability out the window, becoming a non-stop CGI fueled Jackie Channish movie starring Jason Statham and fast cars. The locale changes to Miami and the story gets mildly better. They trade the smoking barrels for spinning sidekicks, a wise choice. The basic premise of the movie is Statham is acting as chauffeur for the son of a high-level DEA official (Matthew Modine) and his wife (Amber Valetta). A mercenary named Gianni Chellini (Alessandro Gassman) and his psychotic killer girlfriend Lola (Kate Nauta) kidnap the son to inject him with a super-virus that turns him into a biological weapon that can wipe out all of the drug enforcement officials in the USA. Oh, and Keith David (Spawn, Men at Work) is in it and so is Jason Flemyng (Snatch, Stardust) with a worse fucking Russian accent than Natasha, I mean, Cate Blanchett. MOOSE AND SQUIRREL.
Yeah, alright, so whatever the movie is about. This time, they forego the constant shirt taking offery for more ass-kicking offery. I guess this one is more for the lads than the ladies. The action sequences in this movie are Rock Star Energy Drink slurping, adrenaline fueled, logic-blowing insanity, but at the same time it’s like when Three Six Mafia won the Academy Award. Your brain went, “There’s no way that can happen. That’s fucking impossible. That violates every fucking law of the universe. It totally demolishes the realism and credibility of this institution. YAY! HAH! BURN HOLLYWOOD BURN!” I have no problem with physics-boggling stunts, provided the movie establishes that tone from the get-go. The opening sequence in the parking lot where Statham takes off his jacket before beating up the Wu-Tang Clan knockoffs not only sets the pace nicely, but makes me want to spawn little Statham clones in martini glasses so civilization never loses the opportunity to watch a Jason Statham kick people.
The action in Transporter 2 is so beyond the realm of belief, I would sooner think it possible to see Mel Gibson dancing the Hava Nagila at the bar mitzvah for Lourdes Ritchie and her manbrow. Statham flips a car off a loading dock to use a crane hook to knock a bomb from the bottom of the car, and then lands perfectly fine. He crashes through a parking structure barrier in his car, soaring majestically into the next building across. He beats the shit out of a goon squad with a fire hose, in a residential mansion mind you. He fires a rocket-propelled canister of nitrous at Lola in the middle of a dentist’s office, and she walks away unscathed. Oh, and he uses casaba melons as boxing gloves to beat up a giant henchmonster only to end up killing him by crushing his head with a boat. The violence is extremely cartoonish right up to and including the entire character of Lola, who stands in a doctor’s office in a pink bra and garter panties get-up, firing two silencer machineguns with hate in her Pete Wentz spackled black eyeliner. Even the mild attempt at a romance is used more as a demonstration of Frank Martin’s unwavering honor code rather than some sort of plot device. Hell, even Francois Berleand is back as Tarconi, managing to elevate his Joe Pesciesque Leo-Getzy cameo with his effervescent Gallic charm.
It’s the perfect movie to slog your liquor addled brain along to, what with the bizarre techno-laden soundtrack blaring out every few minutes to wake you for the beatings. And yes, there will be a Transporter 3, coming out this fall. While Besson and Kamen are still penning the script, they’ve lost their directing team. The new one is being helmed by Olivier Megaton, who has a few films and some graffiti tags to his credit, and the distinction of picking his stage name based on the fact his birthday is on the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima. Thanks to Vermillion, I’ve seen the trailer, and it looks like they’ve combined all the grand qualities into an orgy of deliciousness. Essentially, Jason Statham seems to take off or tear his shirt in every scene, right before he starts kicking people in the face. Hollywood has finally learned how to write a sequel. I have no idea what it’s about, but who cares? Jason Statham kicking things shirtless!
Drink it in, baby. Chin it all.
Brian Prisco is a warrior-poet from the valley of North Hollywood, by way of Philadelphia. He wastes most of his life in desk jobs, biding his time until he finally becomes an actor, a writer, or cannon fodder in the inevitable zombie invasion. He can be found shaking his fist and angrily shouting at clouds on his blog, The Gospel According to Prisco.
American Ganster Boozehound | | Pajiba Love 06/13/08
Comments
Link, goddammnit, link!!!!
Just kidding. Oh the grand mal seizure of awesome that is The Transporter and Transporter 2.
My friends and I surmised that the car in TP2 was indeed created by rebel NASA scientists who really liked German cars. They developed the only vehicle that could survive anything (for the eventual Mars mission), but were laughed out when they suggested that only a true badass could handle driving it. Oh, but they made them regret that, oh yes they did.
Posted by: Vermillion at June 13, 2008 2:06 PM
Dammit, I make a crack about a missing link, and I forget to put one in my name.
I am an ass.
Posted by: Vermillion at June 13, 2008 2:07 PM
Might as well make it a three-fer and add "Crank" in there too. And '2' might be a fun actiony romp but some of the fight sequences in the first Transporter, especially the one on the oil slick? The one where he fights with bike pedals on his feet? Some of those were really exceptionally well executed. Plus, the door-kicking scene. You cannot go wrong with that.
(I liked the concept of 'Unleashed' but found the supporting actors, especially that goddamn girl, so irritating I couldn't even ignore her for the action)
she just might have been sucked in by his all-consuming charisma.
"Why do we call him Handsome Rob?"
"Because he is Handsome Rob."
"Listen, I'm gonna need your shirt, and your truck."
"Perfect! I'll give them both to you. Would you like my virginity as well?"
"If it's on the menu."
"Oh, you're so witty! Why don't you take advantage of me?"
Posted by: twig at June 13, 2008 2:18 PM
It doesn't make any fucking sense, but frankly, who am I to blame a girl for doing Jason Statham?
Hopefully, my boyfriend will come to this same conclusion.
Posted by: jM at June 13, 2008 2:26 PM
I would watch any Jason Statham movie, even if it was the stupidest movie in the history of stupidity. If not for the need to endure birth, I would gladly have Statham's babies. Instead, I will settle for the baby-makin' activity without the baby-birthin' consequences. I know that we haven't met, and that this is probably inappropriate, but I love thee, Statham.
Posted by: wicker at June 13, 2008 2:34 PM
Bruce McCullough stuck a squirrel on his head so nobody would know his secret.
that is one of my favorite KITH sketches.
i loved the first transporter, the second one not so much.
Posted by: kelley at June 13, 2008 2:34 PM
Ha! Twig, that scene combines two of the top entries on my "To Do" list, which is getting quite a work-out today. Mention-wise, that is, and that is all, unfortunately.
Posted by: Geetch at June 13, 2008 2:38 PM
wicker:I would watch any Jason Statham movie, even if it was the stupidest movie in the history of stupidity.
Crank will fix that right up fer ya. You'll eat your words, and then you'll eat a Pill of Forgetfulness.
But in general, yeah, I agree. Two times hard. Zee Juh-mens couldn't pull me offa him.
Posted by: that bees chick at June 13, 2008 2:42 PM
I would sooner think it possible to see Mel Gibson dancing the Hava Nagila at the bar mitzvah for Lourdes Ritchie and her manbrow.
Just for the record, hava nagila is the song. The dance is called the hora.
[/Jewety]
The worst thing about this movie being shown on f/x? Missing out on the pre-'gettin' busy' Shu Qi nudity.
Posted by: thejodester at June 13, 2008 3:00 PM
Listen, I don't like to ask for handouts, but with the economy in the state that it is, rope is more expensive now then it has ever been. Luckily, Nathan Fillion has finally gone full on Patty Hearst and is out buying groceries and I've got my bike chains for Taylor Kitsch.(Can you hear him? He's yelling like a wild horse waiting to be broken) But if I'm gonna get Jason Statham into the pleasure dungeon, I am gonna need rope by the boat load. I mean, those legs are very dexterous. So, you know, anything you can spare will be great. Also, does anyone have experience with animal tranquillizers?
Posted by: jM at June 13, 2008 3:01 PM
jM, I find that a bottle of red wine laced with valium and a taser work quite well against those whiny men who aren't quite feeling the kidnapping.
Posted by: Julie at June 13, 2008 3:06 PM
OMG, thank you for calling it Beirut! Nothing, NOTHING pisses me off more than people calling Beirut Beer Pong (well there is that whole having to stop drinking to use the bathroom thing natch).
Posted by: TheSharp at June 13, 2008 3:07 PM
so that's where Nathan went.....
he disappeared around last Memorial Day from...well...let's just say from my "party", and neither hide nor hair has been seen of him since round these parts.
glad to know he's doin alright jM. keep him close, he's a wiley one
not like Ryan here
you're a good boy, aren't you Ryan?
no, you may not have your shirt back...
Posted by: Bethy at June 13, 2008 3:17 PM
So that's where he was, Bethy? All this time he refused to talk about it, but I knew those teeth marks were human.
Posted by: jM at June 13, 2008 3:23 PM
In my mind, nothing can top the blatant video game sequence in Transporter 1, the aforementioned oil slick / bicycle pedals scene. Statham beats on about 50 guys, then they all flee so the bigger guy can come out and also get his evil tail whipped in a one-on-one fight. I'm fairly certain this character is credited simply as "boss." Because why clutter the script with actual names, when they should all just be called "Guy Statham will kick in awesome way" and "Guy Statham will kick in even more awesome way."
Though I'm always saddened that they cut the scene in the original trailer, where he deflects an incoming rocket with a pot lid from the kitchen.
Posted by: Dubs at June 13, 2008 3:25 PM
what can I say jM?
sometimes I get a bit bitey
now you haven't seen Peter Krause anywhere over there, have you?
He snapped one time when I was making him reinact the entire two seasons of Sports Night and literally ate his way through my basement foundation wall to freedom
I should listened to you about using more rope...
Posted by: Bethy at June 13, 2008 3:32 PM
Just remember, kids - Statham makes everything better.
Nothing, NOTHING pisses me off more than people calling Beirut Beer Pong (well there is that whole having to stop drinking to use the bathroom thing natch).
Nothing? War, poverty, famine, misuse of executive power? Slow drivers in the fast lane? Banging your toe on the bedframe when you get up to pee in the middle of the night?
I'm playing Beer Pong tomorrow.
Posted by: Nicole at June 13, 2008 3:33 PM
While the Transporter movies rock, and Prisco's reviews rock, and the combination rocks awesomely...
...and also Jason Statham rocks my brain those really basic portions of my brain...
...I'm wondering if I'm going to see a review of The Happening this afternoon, 'cause I really really wanna read the Pajiba review of The Happening.
The Incredible Hulk I don't actually care about that much; but that'd be cool also.
Posted by: Jerce at June 13, 2008 3:34 PM
Sorry Nicole, none of those things bothers me too much. You see, I'm an extremely obnoxious, self centered bastard with no fear of the Godtopus.
In all seriousness, I do care about those things, especially the misuse of executive power considering the guys my boss. WooHoo go AF!
Pppbbbtt!
Posted by: TheSharp at June 13, 2008 3:43 PM
Bethy, that must of been after the Josh Charles incident of 2003. Peter hasn't been the same since that month in my parent's basement...nether has my mom.
Posted by: jM at June 13, 2008 3:44 PM
Hee hee...nether...I'm keeping it.
Posted by: jM at June 13, 2008 3:48 PM
Any other ladies feel me: I was royally pissed when the first serious sex scene involving Jason Stathum in Crank was so goram awful! And he's too HONORABLE to get it on with the mom in T2? My kingdom for some bare Stathum ass!
Posted by: AmyK at June 13, 2008 3:52 PM
To that bees chick -
I have seen it, and I have loved. Absolutely nothing can alter my perception of Statham. I call it unconditional love. Others may call it psychosis. It's kind of weird, actually.
Posted by: wicker at June 13, 2008 3:55 PM
I knew Josh was acting strangly that year...he was always so cheerful and chipper before
a quiet and sullen Josh, while just as sexy, is not as fun as a active and smooth speaking Josh
but it was ok, I had Joshua Malina stashed in the corner to cheer him up and talk him through his troubles.
Posted by: Bethy at June 13, 2008 3:59 PM
Mmmm...Josh Charles. Best thing about In Treatment.
Posted by: AmyK at June 13, 2008 4:00 PM
It's better to forget it and just watch Jason Statham kick ass.
I think that this might be the defining statement of my lifetime.
Worried about how to fix the complete and utter clusterfuck of American foreign politics? It's better to forget it and just watch Jason Statham kick ass.
On the verge of a homicide spree because your sorority slut roommates are too engrossed in a rerun of The Hills to let you watch the Celtics game? It's better to forget it and just watch Jason Statham kick ass.
Wondering whether its worth groveling to your ex-boyfriend just to get some much needed nookie? It's better to forget it and just watch Jason Statham kick ass.
On second thought, that last one might just accomplish the whole nookie goal. That is, if you can have nookie with yourself.
Posted by: Marra at June 13, 2008 4:09 PM
Oh, and speaking of Nathan Fillion disappearing, wtf with White Noise 2? Or did I miss everyone talking about it already? Mal and Starbuck, in the same straight to dvd sequel? Part of me wants to squel with joy, the other part of me wants to commit suicide that two of my favorite people could do this to themselves.
Posted by: Marra at June 13, 2008 4:12 PM
Josh Charles is the best thing about everything Amy K
especially the "home movie" I am in the process of filming
now if you'll excuse me, I have a scene change to oversee and some shackles to tighten....
Posted by: Bethy at June 13, 2008 4:14 PM
Marra, seeing as I know for a fact that Nathan was "indisposed" during the filming of White Noise 2, my only guess is that the film is nothing but a cruel trick hatched by the spambot/cylon armies.
Posted by: jM at June 13, 2008 4:20 PM
the spambot/cylon armies
that is just too terrifing a concept to comprehend
so I am going to go kill the brain cells that retain that information with lots and lots of beer
[pictures cylons setting up internet dating wesites to destroy humankind]
lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of beer....
Posted by: Bethy at June 13, 2008 4:46 PM
jM, if Nathan was indisposed, as you say, than that can mean only one thing: There is a Nathan Fillion robot clone out there. If this is so I firmly believe it is every adult's god given right to have their own Nathan robot locked in their cellar, catering to their every kinky, immoral whim; and I pledge my full support to whomever will make this possible, even if they are toasters or those illiterate bastards taking liberties with grammar at that millionaire matchmaker website.
Posted by: Marra at June 13, 2008 4:50 PM
Oh, fuck! I forgot to close the bracket! Bad Marra! I don't deserve a Nathan Fillibot.
Posted by: Marra at June 13, 2008 4:51 PM
Oh, and speaking of Nathan Fillion disappearing, wtf with White Noise 2? Or did I miss everyone talking about it already? Mal and Starbuck, in the same straight to dvd sequel? Part of me wants to squel with joy, the other part of me wants to commit suicide that two of my favorite people could do this to themselves.
Well, Mara, I did post my opinion-paragraph somewhere on one of Pajiba's long-forgotten columns...It was indeed painful to see two such talented people trapped in such a gawdawful shitsquall.
If you mute the sound and just look at the actors...Nah, even that doesn't work. It is just irredeemably awful.
Posted by: Jerce at June 13, 2008 5:04 PM
Somehow, I knew that would be the case, Jerce. When the universe aligns to put two kickass people in one film, of course the film has to suck giant taint. The Godtopus gives, and the Godtopus taketh away.
Posted by: Marra at June 13, 2008 5:12 PM
Brian,
I simply HAD to stop reading after the first paragraph of your review and write my 1st thoughts immediately, in my best James Lipton, 'cause that's just the mood I'm in:
"There will never be a greater, beautiful, insightful, honest, more empathetically-composed paragraph dedicated to 'cheap beer' than will ever be produced by any member of the entire human race to have ever lived on this planet, NOR it's supposed cosmos existing outside of our known knowledge..(more superlatives & whatnot)
Being a regular consumer of Old Milwaukee Light (btw, it's ALWAYS ON SALE!!!), I thank you for giving me the courage to come out and admit my own preference for cheap beer, if not only because I've never experienced a truly "tasty" beer in my life, just soft-core replicas that give me the buzz without the gnarly taste in my mouth the morning after, just as you described. (I'm sorry, got a crush thing going on here)
Okay, I can exhale now & read the rest of the article. Check ya later, turkeys!!! (inane 70's lingo to showcase my embarrassment)
Posted by: TMax at June 13, 2008 5:13 PM
Love the Frank Sinatra/Blazing Saddles title reference.
"Now, come on, boys! Where's your spirit? I don't hear no singin'! - When you were slaves, you sang like birds. Go on. How 'bout a good ol' nigger work song? "
"Meeeeere alchohol, doesn't thrillllll me at all...."
"Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! What the hell is that shit?"
Posted by: Mick J at June 13, 2008 5:47 PM
Okay, read the review & ready to blather:
Brian, your comparisons of Ric Young and Richard Dawson in 'The Running Man' was totally spot on, loved that obscure reference & don't want to ruin your great lines so that's all I'll say 'bout that.
I was lucky enough to catch 'Transporter 2' on MOD before I ever saw the first one. I sat back and enjoyed the ride, and if there were any ridiculous plot lines, kitschy dialogue, what have you, Stratham's performance, and the sheer adrenaline-pumping feeling I had from watching that movie, totally succeeded in distracting me from any criticism that ignored how much I just truly loved the film (or experience, whatever you call it).
Great Hangover choice, especially a double feature, when you're at that Level III, "hey, it's gonna be a long day in the bathroom for me" kind of awareness.
I wish all a painless, if not altogether unavoidable, hangover this weekend. I'm getting my own out of the way by tomorrow..
before I start my next one
Posted by: TMax at June 13, 2008 5:52 PM
Fuck PBR and Old Mil--Miller High Life, in the can, motherfuckers!
Posted by: AmyK at June 13, 2008 5:54 PM
Marra,
Loved your 1st, 4:09pm post. Completely. Sorry I didn't see it sooner. You are so cool in my book, if that means anything. I'm behind on my Pajiba tonight; just saw your comment at the right time, had to comment back myself.
(Read and observe, brothers: THAT'S how you get the hot internet babes - no charge for this lesson)
Posted by: TMax at June 13, 2008 6:14 PM
Can't speak for PBR, but any Miller beer gave me the worst vomitous reactions that I've stayed totally clear from that for years. Too thick & stays lumped in the stomach overnight.
Now, Busch Light? An admittedly weak beer, but you can pass it quite simply the next morning without feeling that hardcore Budweiser impact that most novices are subjected to.
I've written way too much for anyone to suffer through today, & apologize for wasting your time thus far. It's just so very rare an opportunity to discuss 'cheap beer' with truly educated peers.
I'm out, folks, and I urge you all to re-read the first comment, Vermillion's, wherein he elucidated upon the TP2 car.
Thar's literary gold in these here hills, people!
Posted by: TMax at June 13, 2008 6:38 PM
Uh, that means everything, TMax. Consider this hunchbacked troll hot internet babe hooked.
Posted by: Marra at June 13, 2008 8:37 PM
Statham is a given. I'll watch whatever's playing, sometimes with the sound off. But I will have to pass on the beer. If I remember correctly, PBR makes me twitch. And I won't even discuss Miller. Can't I just splash some rum into my coffee?
Posted by: greer at June 14, 2008 8:22 AM
Maybe it's just me, but if I had the money and cars and knew all types of Martial Arts, I'd be out somewhere fucking.
Posted by: Pookie at June 14, 2008 12:34 PM
Beer Pong > Beirut
Posted by: Brett at June 14, 2008 1:39 PM
I think I'm in a dwindling minority here; I just don't buy Jason Statham as an action hero. He's short, scrawny, balding (only The Bruce could pull off balding) and he talks like a 10 year old boy doing a Snake Plisskin impersonation. Squinting at people does not make him seem intimidating, either.
Oh, and the constant three day growth? Stubble does not make you rugged. Stubble is a by-product of being rugged. You know why Indiana Jones had a stubbly jaw back in the day? Because he was too busy single-handedly beating the Germans at World War II to shave.
Posted by: James at June 14, 2008 3:13 PM
I watched Transporter 2 with my younger brother completely plastered at the local movieplex. To this day, he claims that it jolted him out of a black-out drunk state with its sheer insanity. I distinctly remember thinking that he was probably going to throw up in the aisles and we were going to have to leave when we first sat down and the room went dark. He had lost the ability to hold himself upright, and the ability to actually focus his eyes enough to keep track of the screen.
Then the upside-down barrel roll/crane hook/bomb removal occurs, after which he drives away unscathed.
At that very moment my brother seemed to break his stupor and his head snapped in my direction, "Wait, what the fuck just happened? Did he just flip that..." He looked back at the screen in now obvious and open disbelief. He laughed quickly and loudly and from that point on he was fine for the rest of the morning, shocked from a drunken stupor by Jason Statham's ginormous brass balls.
Posted by: Roaddog at June 15, 2008 1:09 AM