Transporter 3

Movie Information

The Story: Frank Martin is back. This time, at the behest of a shady American, he transports a trunk full of duffel bags, accompanied by a mysterious young woman. The Lowdown: A parade of over-the-top fight sequences and car chases that’s damn entertaining simply because it revels in its own absurdity and never takes itself even slightly seriously.
Score:

Genre: Action/Thriller
Director: Olivier Megaton
Starring: Jason Statham, Natalya Rudakova, François Berléand, Robert Knepper, Jeroen Krabbé
Rated: PG-13

I can’t call Transporter 3 a good movie. It’s big, dumb, preposterous, occasionally nonsensical and, more often than not, utterly ludicrous—so calling it first-rate would be quite an overstatement. However, this does not keep it from being 100 minutes of entertainment wrapped up in a ridiculous action movie.

Actually, Marc Forster, Paul Haggis and everyone else involved in Quantum of Solace should have spent less time lifting ideas from the Bourne films and more time taking a few cues from this series instead. For whatever shortcomings accompany the Transporter flicks—their inherent trashiness, their incredulity—they’re never glum, self-serious or humorless. They’re actually damn fun—and something Quantum of Solace’s Mr. Bond could learn a thing or two from.

Directed by Olivier Megaton (whose real name is Olivier Fontana—I can’t quite blame him for ditching his old moniker), this latest entry in the Transporter series finds our hero, Frank Martin (Jason Statham), seemingly retired from his days of transporting odds and ends for any ne’er-do-well with deep enough pockets. The film opens with Frank spending his days fishing and discussing the French people’s obsession for Jerry Lewis with his old pal Tarconi (François Berléand), a French police inspector.

It’s only when friend and fellow transporter Malcom Manville (David Atrakchi) fails to deliver a package that Frank begrudgingly agrees to go back to work and finish the job for a disreputable American named Johnson (Robert Knepper, Hitman). Of course, Johnson is the kind of mustache-twirling villain (even though he only has a goatee, which he really ought to stroke instead) that you just know is evil because he shoots his own anonymous henchmen.

Back in the game, Frank sets off in his Audi, accompanied by a mysterious Ukrainian woman (newcomer Natalya Rudakova) with a Zagat-like knowledge of European seafood restaurants. Oh, and they’re each sporting a wristband that’ll explode if either one goes more than 75 feet from the car. It’s all a matter of Frank unraveling the nefarious plot in which he’s become entangled. This has something to do with the Ukrainian president (Jeroen Krabbé, Ocean’s Twelve) and a cargo ship full of toxic waste that looks an awful lot like baked beans.

But the plot is mere window dressing, since the movie’s real purpose is to showcase Statham fighting leather-jacket-clad heavies of indistinguishable European descent and driving his car through various Continental locales, with the random gunfight, explosion, BMX bike chase or Statham taking his shirt off for the sake of badass-ery thrown in to spice things up. While Megaton shoots his fight scenes in close and with tons of quick cuts—to punctuate just how exciting all this is supposed to be—it never quite tailspins into jumbled confusion. Instead, for the most part, Megaton manages to keep everything coherent and decipherable, while also realizing that a Stooges song automatically makes any action sequence better.

Transporter 3 just sweats absurdity (like dredging a sports car from the bottom of a river using gym bags), but everyone involved seems to realize where these movies rank on the hierarchy of quality cinema. Is this flick likely to place Megaton in the pantheon of great filmmakers? (von Sternberg! Eisenstein! Bergman! Megaton!) No, of course not. But as far as being a silly, amusing actioner, Transporter 3 does that quite well. Rated PG-13 for sequences of intense action and violence, some sexual content and drug material.

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34 thoughts on “Transporter 3

  1. Dionysis

    Well, your review makes this third in the series sound a lot better than the second one. The previews alone made T3 seem superior to T2. I love a good mindless action flick every now and then.

  2. Justin Souther

    I managed to miss the second one (I wasn’t around writing reviews at that point for Ken to pass that one along to me) but I haven’t heard anything good about it.

  3. Louis

    Since this is TRANSPORTER 3–a second-sequel installment–I had an admittedly random and frivolous thought…

    Let’s see how many movies the Xpress blogging “community” can come up that can reasonably be described as franchise movies (a “franchise” movie defined here as one generating impact/influence of more than, say, 3 years) unto themselves–i.e., they stand alone–that don’t have any sequels?

    Such a movie “franchise” might have any number of ancillary tie-ins ranging from T-shirts, books, toys, dolls, up to and including, of course, video games.

    Parameters: Remakes count.
    Sequels and recurring characters
    (e.g., “Dirty” Harry Callahan) don’t.

    We could say, for example, that FORREST GUMP was a franchise movie unto itself, but I wouldn’t accept the argument that its influence/impact on American pop-culture lasted more than 3 years–thus GUMP doesn’t qualify.

    So, we all get the idea, right?

    Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

    –THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939)

    –ET (1982)

    –SCARFACE (1983) — (The best one on this list).

    –TITANTIC (1997)

    –Any Number of mindless (Pixar) animated
    movies. Ex. THE INCREDIBLES, CARS, FINDING
    NEMO, blah, blah, blah.

  4. Ken Hanke

    Is Jason Statham the last goofy action hero left?

    I hadn’t thought about it, but you may be right. I suppose a case could be made for Gerard Butler in RockNRolla, but that’s a single film and not especially representative of Butler.

  5. Ken Hanke

    Louis, I’m not actually sure what you’re after. For me a franchise has to actually consist of a series of films. I suppose it’s not unreasonable to consider a series of co-star (Karloff and Lugosi, for example) or star-and-director (Tod Browning and Lon Chaney, Sr., for instance) as franchises, since they are really the brand name and the draw.

    But it seems to me that you’re asking for movies that have significant cultural impact extending over an arbitrary space of time. Or are you talking movies that caused a run of similarly-themed or styled movies attempting to cash in on the popular? If the latter, you can’t really put The Wizard of Oz on the list, since it spawned nothing at the time of its release, unless you count the big-budget fiasco of The Blue Bird in 1940, which is notable mostly for being the first Shirley Temple picture to lose money. It’s a film where the cultural impact came years later.

  6. Louis

    Louis, I’m not actually sure what you’re after. For me a franchise has to actually consist of a series of films.

    Yes — I would ordinarily agree with your definition of a “franchise,” i.e., a series of films. That’s the irony, here, I suppose. A franchise is a series–empiracally speaking. What I’m after is the rare “qualitative” franchise personality of the solo film: Those cinematic pop-culture exceptions to this otherwise hard and fast rule. The oxymoronic single-film franchise. In other words, if it “walks” like a franchise and “talks” like a franchise, it’s a franchise — whether single or series.

    Franchise implies more than cultural impact, though that’s part and parcel of what we’re talking about here. To be a franchise film–a single film or series–it has to have cultural and anicillary commercial (more than first-run ticket sales and DVD sales) impact.

    The correlative timing of the so-called “cultural impact” to the corresponding movie is, for these purposes,–like in the case of THE WIZARD OF OZ–irrelevant. What is relevant is that 63 years after its release, kids like my daughter actually wanted a talking Glenda-the-good-witch doll for Christmas. One that, as it turned out, was quite easy to find on the shelves of any big-box department store. Why is that?

    And, yes, the period of time is abritrary so as to stimulate a discussionary starting point.

    Google “WIZARD OF OZ” merhcandise (59,000 hits), or recognize that a “SCARFACE” inspired video game was released for the Playstation 2 and XBox in 2006 and on the Wii in 2007. These are relevant examples of single-film franchises.

    How many of the kids buying the SCARFACE video game, or playing it at a friends house, do we suppose have actually seen the Pacino SCARFACE? And, let’s not even broach the subject of the possibility of having seen the original ’33 Muni version, right? In 2007, the movie was 24-years-old.

    In 2008, SCARFACE continues to successfully burrough into America’s pop-culture fabric. Why SCARFACE? Why not, say, INDEPENDENCE DAY?

  7. Ken Hanke

    I don’t see what you hope to prove with any of this. The rules seem kind of arbitrary and at best you’re going to be guessing as to the why of it.

    The major connecting thread for me with your original list of titles is that I’ve long since burned out on one and am indifferent — or worse — to the others.

    Really, the circumstances are so different on each. Wizard of Oz is a kind of fluke that became iconic because a few generations of kids bought into CBS selling it as a yearly treat. And those generations passed it on to their kids — except, of course, the ones who do impressions of Judy and have ruby slippers sitting on their TV sets, since they rarely have kids.

    Where Scarface is concerned are we even sure that the kids buying the games care about its movie origins? How much of the movie’s cache comes from having a well-remembered line? How much of its appeal over, say, an even more artistically dubious movie like Independence Day, stems from the simple (if, to me, quite incomprehensible) fetish that people seem to have about gangsters? Personally, I’ll pass on both this version and the video games and stick with Howard Hawks’ 1932 film.

    There are just so many variables that I don’t see where this approach will take you.

  8. Louis

    I don’t see what you hope to prove with any of this. The rules seem kind of arbitrary and at best you’re going to be guessing as to the why of it.

    Prove?

    I must confess I don’t have an intelligible response to this question and its follow-up observations. So, I’ll go with what we’ll have to call an unintelligible one…

    With regard to the entertaining and informative Xpress “Screening Room” pieces that have been written, I can’t think of any in which one or more of these constructive criticisms — i.e., proving a point, arbitrariness, and/or guessing—are not part and parcel of the points-of-views, discussions, and arguments put forth. The irony is that that’s why I enjoy reading them.

    Take, for example, the “Screening Room” article that appeared at the end of September ’08 regarding the Ken Russell Box Set. This article was 5,300 words — give or take. If we can agree that the average Xpress movie review is, say, 1000 words, the Russell piece is over 5x longer; more than the combined words for all the movie reviews appearing in a typical weekly Xpress edition.

    We could just as easily have summarily dismissed its purpose in the greater scheme of things. For example, as the author of the piece–and several others about specific Russell works–are you trying to “prove” that Russell is a great filmmaker? I certainly don’t perceive that to be the case. I take it that you’re expressing a well-informed, articulately framed passion for his filmmaking — Bravo!

    But, suppose, for example, that I were to offer that I don’t enjoy Russell’s work a tenth as much as you do; or that on RottenTomatoes.com LISZTOMANIA and THE DEVILS don’t even have registered tomatometer ratings because each only has a paltry three reviews, respectively. Would any of this matter to you? Does that alter the merits of the 5,300 piece on Russell’s work, or, more importantly, the impact of Russell’s body of work? I would hope the answer to both is a resounding: “No!” You’ve written passionately and articulately about both films. In the context of discussions about film, that’s what’s relevant and stimulating.

    I’m not testing a hypothesis here. I don’t have some secret agenda. I’m simply posing the question. If someone is motivated to re-shape the question based on a compelling argument, they may certainly do so.

    The major connecting thread for me with your original list of titles is that I’ve long since burned out on one and am indifferent—or worse—to the others.

    A “franchise” discussion is necessarily about commerce, not about yours, or my, filtering its commerical impact through our personal preferences. This is a matter of business, not personal pleasure. To say that a film — a series or a single film — is a “franchise” is to say that it’s spawning ancillary products or services in the marketplace over some arbitrary period of time.

    If we’re having this “franchise” discussion, say, about fast-food restaurants, we wouldn’t dismiss McDonald’s and Burger King because the “connecting thread” is that their fries taste like grease or that their burgers smell better than they taste. These are personal preferences.

    These preferences don’t change the fact that they’re franchises. The same thinking applies to, say, THE WIZARD OF OZ and SCARFACE — you and I may both think THE WIZARD OF OZ is worn out, or that SCARFACE (1983) is a bloated piece of crap. In the context of commerce, what does our shared opinion on this issue have to do with anything. It’s a separate matter.

    This isn’t my “faith” in these films. I don’t have any in either. It’s recognizing a unique and lasting marriage between a single film — proliferating without sequels — and commerce.

    Where Scarface is concerned are we even sure that the kids buying the games care about its movie origins? How much of the movie’s cache comes from having a well-remembered line?

    Yes — that’s the point I made in my previous posting. These kids (or, I’m afraid, actual purported “adults”), or their parents, are buying the SCARFACE video game to play and they don’t even know or c-a-r-e about the movie. How did that happen? Why?

    Cache because of a “well-remembered line?” That explanation alone isn’t enough, though it’s definately a possible starting point. Lots of single films that made a lot more money in ticket and ancillary sales — with lines just as well remembered and regarded — have not evolved into single-film franchises; Ex: FORREST GUMP (“Life is like a box of chocolates….”); THE SIXTH SENSE (“I see dead people”); GLADIATOR (“…Unleash hell”) etc, etc. All three of these movies are in the top 100 grossing of all time.

    How much of its appeal over, say, an even more artistically dubious movie like Independence Day, stems from the simple (if, to me, quite incomprehensible) fetish that people seem to have about gangsters?

    This simplified explanation doesn’t scratch the surface of the “film franchise” discussion — for a series or a single film. There have been a million gangster films released over the last 80+ years. Primarily because of this
    so-called “fetish,” right? Name another single-film gangster movie that has had as long a lasting commercial impact on American commerce and popular culture as the ’83 SCARFACE. What are the speculative reasons for that?

    Of course, whatever these reasons are, they’re subjective and, if argued by anyone, arbitrary. Does that diminish the stimulation of the discussion or the opportunity to gain useful insight into what makes a film franchise — series or otherwise? Not for me — it makes it even more compelling, in fact. It’s that age-old conundrum: The adverisal relationship between art and commerce.

    Really, the circumstances are so different on each. Wizard of Oz is a kind of fluke that became iconic because a few generations of kids bought into CBS selling it as a yearly treat. And those generations passed it on to their kids—except, of course, the ones who do impressions of Judy and have ruby slippers sitting on their TV sets, since they rarely have kids.

    Yes — the circumstances are so different. Why? How did that happen? Does anybody know? Is there a compelling argument to be made in either case? Does a pattern or theme emerge if we indulge ourselves long enough to explore the subject deeper?

    IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE and A CHRISTMAS STORY have been given the same “generational” TV- programming treatment that you’ve described of THE WIZARD OF OZ. Why haven’t they evolved into single-film franchises? I’m curious. Moreover, I’m curious to know if anybody else is curious.

    In your case, we’ve got the answer, right? So, in that regard, mission accomplished.

  9. Ken Hanke

    With regard to the entertaining and informative Xpress “Screening Room” pieces that have been written, I can’t think of any in which one or more of these constructive criticisms — i.e., proving a point, arbitrariness, and/or guessing—are not part and parcel of the points-of-views, discussions, and arguments put forth. The irony is that that’s why I enjoy reading them.

    But that’s the nature of the “Screening Room.” It’s a place where I can discuss or muse about film in an essayist style that’s not hemmed in by considerations of how esoteric it is or whether whatever I’m writing about is playing locally. It’s very nature is a combination of an attempt at being somewhat educational, entertaining and, yes, self-indulgent. That’s also the reason why I devote far more time to it than is practical on a per-hour financial consideration basis.

    Take, for example, the “Screening Room” article that appeared at the end of September ’08 regarding the Ken Russell Box Set. This article was 5,300 words — give or take. If we can agree that the average Xpress movie review is, say, 1000 words, the Russell piece is over 5x longer; more than the combined words for all the movie reviews appearing in a typical weekly Xpress edition.

    Yes, but this has no relevance. The review lengths are dictated by a restricted amount of physical space. The “Screening Rooms” do not have that restriction, but even so the box set in question encompasses seven films.

    But, suppose, for example, that I were to offer that I don’t enjoy Russell’s work a tenth as much as you do; or that on RottenTomatoes.com LISZTOMANIA and THE DEVILS don’t even have registered tomatometer ratings because each only has a paltry three reviews, respectively.

    True, but factor in that we’re talking about two films that are over 30 years old and which are not available on DVD. The former means that they predate Rotten Tomatoes as a repository of theatrical release reviews. The latter means that there simply aren’t any DVD reviews.

    A “franchise” discussion is necessarily about commerce, not about yours, or my, filtering its commerical impact through our personal preferences. This is a matter of business, not personal pleasure. To say that a film — a series or a single film — is a “franchise” is to say that it’s spawning ancillary products or services in the marketplace over some arbitrary period of time.

    My central problem with the concept, I think, lies in it necessarily omitting series films, which also removes such incredible tie-in merchandise money-spinners as the Star Wars films or LOTR, etc. Here, your fast-food comparison becomes sketchy to me because McDonalds, et al offer a variety of product, not one single item.

    This simplified explanation doesn’t scratch the surface of the “film franchise” discussion — for a series or a single film. There have been a million gangster films released over the last 80+ years. Primarily because of this so-called “fetish,” right? Name another single-film gangster movie that has had as long a lasting commercial impact on American commerce and popular culture as the ’83 SCARFACE. What are the speculative reasons for that?

    But that wasn’t your question. Your question was what Scarface and why not Independence Day, which is all I was addressing. The question also arises — at least for me — as to how long-lasting this impact actually is. By that I mean is there an unbroken line of viable merchandising stretching from 1983 till now? That’s a very real question, not merely a point of being contrary. How far back does the video game extend. (I am not a gamer and have no clue on this point.) Also, has the game gone way past its source by this point, which you seem to suggest is the case? That puts it into a completely different realm than, say, Wizard of Oz merchandise, all of which is marketed toward people who love the film.

    It’s that age-old conundrum: The adverisal relationship between art and commerce.

    But is it? The art — assuming that it’s there — is in the film itself. Ancillary products — however you feel about them — neither add to, nor subtract from that. Your premise seems more a sociological one than an artistic one. There’s nothing wrong with that, mind you, but I don’t really see an art and commerce divide here.

    IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE and A CHRISTMAS STORY have been given the same “generational” TV- programming treatment that you’ve described of THE WIZARD OF OZ. Why haven’t they evolved into single-film franchises? I’m curious.

    I don’t have an answer except that Oz has the benefit of being a fantasy populated with fantasy and fantastic characters. There’s more marketability there by its very nature. The characters are all immediately iconic in ways that a Jimmy Stewart or Peter Billingsley action figure never could be. Is that an answer? Probably not, it’s essentially a guess, but that does seem the most notable difference off the top of my head.

  10. Louis

    My central problem with the concept, I think, lies in it necessarily omitting series films, which also removes such incredible tie-in merchandise money-spinners as the Star Wars films or LOTR, etc. Here, your fast-food comparison becomes sketchy to me because McDonalds, et al offer a variety of product, not one single item.

    I suppose this is my so-called “higher learning” rearing its ugly head, but I can’t resist temptation in the context of this discussion…

    L.L. Bean was founded in 1912. For decades it
    only had one “brick & mortar” store
    front in the U.S., located in
    Freeport, Maine. (The company now has about
    27 physical stores and still has no U.S.
    stores west of Pennsylvania). Its first
    physical Outlet store wasn’t opened until
    1988 and it’s first Retail store until 2000.

    So, the question is…

    Can we suppose with a substantial degree of
    certainty that L.L. Bean and its
    uniquely prolific, carefully cultivated,
    brand name carried with it — specifically
    between 1912 and 1988 (76 years) —
    significant quantitative and qualitative
    commercial/cultural business performance and
    impact such that we might have reasonably
    described it as a unique single-
    location “franchise?”

    Could this have been so during those 70+
    years in which it only had the one physical
    store front location in the e-n-t-i-r-e
    country?

    If it “walks” like a franchise, and “talks”
    like a francise — blah, blah, blah, right?

  11. Ken Hanke

    I have no earthly idea what you’re trying to convey here — unless during those years L.L. Bean offered only one item.

  12. Louis

    I have no earthly idea what you’re trying to convey here—unless during those years L.L. Bean offered only one item.

    What I’m trying to convey is that it doesn’t matter whether we’re talking about single films like THE WIZARD OF OZ and SCARFACE (1983), L.L. Bean (during the 76-year period when the company only had one physical store front) or even, say, Michael Jordan — they’re all unique brands in the marketplace in that they’ve transcended conventional wisdom, justifying being described as a stand-alone “franchise”.

    Would anyone be myopic enough to suggest that Tiger Woods–not only is he a single company, but he, like Michael Jordan, is one person–isn’t a stand-alone “franchise,” like, say, the HARRY POTTER and BATMAN series, in the marketplace. ‘Cause if the “Tiger Woods” brand name is not synonymous with the “franchise” concept, somebody should really let his agent know so he can come inside from the dark. Then tell the PGA, every TV channel that broadcasts golf, practically every men’s clothing store in the U.S., and every sporting goods store in the U.S.

    In concept, how are the ancillary products that Tiger Woods, as a “franchise,” spawns over some arbitrary–though substantial–period of time any different than the ancillary products that a single film like, say, SCARFACE (1983) spawns over some arbitrary–though substantial–period of time? Further, how’s it different than the products spawned by the HARRY POTTER snd BATMAN film series? Each is a stand-alone brand that has emerged and evolved into a diverse product line with substantial impact in the marketplace, thus earning distinction as a “franchise.”

    It’s the crucial delineation between the concept of a “brand” and that of a “franchise”–SCARFACE (1983), HARRY POTTER, BATMAN, and the name “Tiger Woods” are the “brand,” the ancillary products tied in to each are what comprise the “franchise” distinction.

    The “brand” is how the producer of the product/image perceives their internal investment and shaping of said product. The “franchise” is the outcome of that investment — i.e., the cumulative perception of that product, as perceived by the marketplace/customer, resulting from long-term exposure to the product or marketing of the product.

    A store chain and a film series are only one type of “franchise”. A franchise may also be an exclusive right to sell branded merchandise like, say, SCARFACE (1983) video games and T-shirts, or Air Jordan shoes and Michael Jordan perfume and cologne. The seller of the “exclusive rights” is the franchisor and the buyer of the “exclusive rights” is the franchisee. The resulting outcome is the “franchise”.

    Indeed, in the context of all professional sports a single given team (e.g., The New York Giants) is referred to as a “franchise” in everyday parlance.

    Hooooh…I can’t get any clearer than this in what I’m trying to convey. You may disagree with what I’m arguing, maybe even more now than ever, but I can’t convey it any clearer in this medium.

  13. Ken Hanke

    I understand your point. I think the problem is that it isn’t that conceptually compelling to me — but that’s just me. I find the division into single title and multiple title franchises forced. You actually seem to be saying that when you link single persons with series items.

    Most of this is simply marketing stuff and it’s of more interest on that basis. Believe it or not, I know what a franchise is and how broadly it can be applied — even how bizarrely it can be applied, e.g., does a collection of Murders in the Rue Morgue, The Black Cat, The Raven, The Invisible Ray and Black Friday actually constitute a “Bela Lugosi Franchise?” It would come as quite a shock to both Lugosi and Karloff, since the latter got top-billing in four of those titles. It’s strictly a marketing decision based on the fact that today Lugosi tends to outsell Karloff. It’s interesting as a barometer of the time on a sociological basis — and if I was pitching a book on Lugosi, I’d use it as part of the pitch. But does any of it have relevance as concerns the quality/content of the films or even the popularity of them?

    How do you determine the success of a given franchise? Or the reasons behind it? Do you have an answer or a theory as to why Scarface has spawned successful ancillary products?

  14. MR.Callahan moviewatcher

    This quite possibly is the worse movie ever written. Really Really Bad. That rating makes stay away from anything reviewed by this critic. Have some carrots and think about the next thing you review.

  15. Louis

    This quite possibly is the worse movie ever written. Really Really Bad. That rating makes stay away from anything reviewed by this critic. Have some carrots and think about the next thing you review.

    Indulge me by permitting me, myself, & I to exercise mediatory license, insofar as I can refract this “challenging” opinion by interjecting the following independent observation:

    Somewhere in cyberspace’s vast reaches there is bound to be a so-called “movie buff” weblog devoted exclusively to the well-honed observational and literary compositional skills of primary grade-level students — go there.

  16. Ken Hanke

    That rating makes stay away from anything reviewed by this critic.

    The rating aside, the review makes it abundantly clear that the movie is patently absurd and that that absurdity is precisely what the critic found entertaining.

  17. Justin Souther

    The rating aside, the review makes it abundantly clear that the movie is patently absurd and that that absurdity is precisely what the critic found entertaining.

    This. I can’t say that there was ever a moment that I even entertained the idea that this was high art.

    And — as silly as this movie is — I can think of at least three movies that are still in theaters that are more poorly written.

  18. Dionysis

    “This quite possibly is the worse movie ever written. Really Really Bad. That rating makes stay away from anything reviewed by this critic. Have some carrots and think about the next thing you review.”

    Excuse my audacity here, but your post is quite possibly the worst post ever written, or at least the most confusing. Did you really mean to state that the movie is the worst movie ever written, or were you trying to state that the review was the worst written? It’s impossible to tell from this rambling mess of a post.

  19. Ken Hanke

    And—as silly as this movie is—I can think of at least three movies that are still in theaters that are more poorly written.

    Four Christmases and Punisher: War Zone leap to mind.

  20. Louis

    Excuse my audacity here, but your post is quite possibly the worst post ever written, or at least the most confusing. Did you really mean to state that the movie is the worst movie ever written, or were you trying to state that the review was the worst written? It’s impossible to tell from this rambling mess of a post.

    I’m not sure if your precise conclusion is more –or less? — dimplomatic than mine.

  21. Mr.Callahan

    Is was simple school stupid, kind of three line comment. A wee bit defensive, yeah! It says the “worse movie” all of the the three sentences written. Glad you love your Souther.

    University Grad.(the unversity) and School of Hard Knocks. um. peace

    p.s. Absurd can be done well, and I don’t have to sit through other drek, I just had to sit through that. I think you just want to be handsome Rob, but come on. That was terrible.

  22. “Is was simple school stupid, kind of three line comment. A wee bit defensive, yeah! It says the “worse movie” all of the the three sentences written. Glad you love your Souther.

    University Grad.(the unversity) and School of Hard Knocks. um. peace”

    Out of curiosity, did you blindly watch this film without seeing TRANSPORTER 1 & 2?

    Sometimes you just want to see shit blow up. Nothing wrong with that.

  23. Ken Hanke

    Is was simple school stupid, kind of three line comment. A wee bit defensive, yeah! It says the “worse movie” all of the the three sentences written.

    Yes, well…

  24. Justin Souther

    Glad you love your Souther.

    I think I finally have a tagline.

    Honestly, I’m fine with “mildly tolerate.”

  25. Ken Hanke

    Honestly, I’m fine with “mildly tolerate.”

    I’m satisfied when people realize you wrote something and don’t blame me.

  26. brebro

    I am a fan of all movies that carry on the inclusive trend of bald guys kicking ass. The bald community usually gets little respect and as Larry David said in this PSA, “cancer patients and their chemo-induced baldness have stolen the sympathy that is rightfully [ours]. Cancer bald is a badge of courage and honor; while BALD bald has simply become: “genetically defective.” Bravo to you, Jason Statham, thank you for taking up the Wilis mantle.

    http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/d346d33656/larry-david-help-a-bald-brother-out-from-stand-up-to-cancer

  27. Dionysis

    “I’m not sure if your precise conclusion is more –or less?—dimplomatic than mine.”

    Beats me; let’s call it a draw.

  28. Ken Hanke

    Yikes! –dimplomatic– Is this a “Freudian slip” or did I just make up a new word?

    Medical term for what is commonly called Shirley Temple Syndrome.

  29. Mr. Callahan movie watcher

    That makes a good point with seeing the first two Transporter movies. But objectively I was saying that, no matter what the writting in this movie was that bad, in light the Transporter fan point maybe 2 stars at most. zero for anybody above the age of 12.

    And the Die Hard movies do a better job at the whole blow some *** up thing and see remain watchable.

  30. Justin Souther

    But objectively I was saying that, no matter what the writting in this movie was that bad, in light the Transporter fan point maybe 2 stars at most. zero for anybody above the age of 12.

    First, you’re never going to get “objective” arts criticism, so that point is moot.

    Second, I think you’re putting way too much stock in the star rating as opposed to what’s written in the review.

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