The to the highest degree astonishing thing about "Death Race," a crash-bang action movie otherwise wholly free of astonishment, or regular much passing interest, is the presence in its cast of Joan Allen. And apart from the fact that she's actually in this damn thing � togged out in exactly the sort of dark, trim suits she wears in the "Bourne" movies � she is also called upon to utter the most problematical line in any recent film. I'm sure you can make it out through the scrim of dashes: "OK, co------ers, f with me, and we'll see world Health Organization sh--s on the sidewalk." This from an actress who's been nominated for three Academy Awards.
If I tell you that "Death Race" was directed by genial dreck purveyor Paul W.S. Anderson, the adult male who littered the earthly concern with "AVP: Alien vs. Predator" and "Resident Evil," that may be all you need to know about this dismal flick. But let's press on anyway.
The picture is set in a hell-hole prison house � it looks like a immense abandoned foundry � that houses (what else?) "the worst of the worst": murderers, rapists, personal-injury lawyers, what get you. And Allen's character, Hennessey, is the warden of this place � or as one lowlife puts it, watching her walking to work right through all the scumbags, "the baddest ass in the yard." She also presides all over an event called Death Race, a sort of armored NASCAR tourney in which the fearsome autos are equipped with all manner of cannons, flamethrowers, even napalm, and impelled by guys with handles like Machine Gun Joe (Tyrese Gibson, looking selfsame 50 Cent) and the Grimm Reaper (Robert LaSardo).
Death Race is beamed out worldwide on the Internet; it's wildly popular, and Hennessey gets hot watching the situation hits click up into the multimillions. There's a problem, though: Her reigning champion, a mysterious subhuman called Frankenstein, grievously banged-up in the last Death Race, has secretly died of his injuries. Fortunately, since Frankenstein always wore a scarey metal mask and never spoke, he can easy be replaced � and Hennessey has just the man for that design: a real life racing star named Jensen Ames (Jason Statham), world Health Organization was framed for the murder of his wife and now resides in Hennessey's bloodcurdling lockup. Ames is persuaded to get behind the mask and is mated with a hot distaff "navigator" (don't ask) named Case (Natalie Martinez). Before you crapper say "cue mayhem," the Death Race is second underway.
Statham, the English Vin Diesel, does most of his acting with his brow muscles, which may over-qualify him for this picture. He glowers and broods, beat generation and gets beaten, piece all about him tank-like hot rods go hilarious through the bullet-filled airwave and purchasing the farm in billowy fireballs. Once upon a time, car chases were a highlighting of whatever serious activeness movie (come back, George Miller!); here they ar its entire substance, which will make "Death Race" a source of fascination mainly for those who've never seen one.
The motion-picture show is notionally based on that '70s grindhouse classic, "Death Race 2000," which starred David Carradine and the pre-"Rocky" Sylvester Stallone. But that film had elements of satire and gobbets of humor amid the butchery. "Death Race," with its leeched coloring, is grisly and laughless, and Anderson pushes his stuttery cameras so draw in to the action that it's oftentimes a nervous strain to discern what on the button is leaving on. Or, if it need be said, to care.
Check out everything we've got on "Death Race."
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Don't miss Kurt Loder's reviews of "The House Bunny," "The Rocker" and "Hamlet 2," also novel in theaters this week.
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