Statham does what he does best in Transporter 3

Action workhorse Jason Statham is back in his old kick-butt ways, sporting the same ol’ black suit and black Audi to match in the third installment of the Transporter series. Statham is, as usual, charged with traversing the mean streets of Marseilles with only his fists, rippling abs and car as weapons. No matter the odds, no matter the stakes, no matter the. . . anyways, Frank Martin will get it done. And does he get it done. Baddies are corralled, hog-tied, broken, et cetera and beautiful freckled Ukrainian babes are bedded, all in vigorous fashion.

In a time where action films seem to be falling out of vogue, Statham is still struggling, grasping, punching and searching for air. Gone are the likes of Arnold “run to the chopper” Schwarzenegger, Sylvester “Adrian!” Stallone, Steven “I don’t emote” Seagal and Jean-Claude “I’m a bad actor” Van Damme. That was the ’90s. Action films have moved past these men and so has the editing. Director Olivier Megaton delivers his best Ridley Scott impersonation with a fast-paced editing touch that doesn’t allow you to focus on whether the action is anywhere realistic. The problem with copying or attempting to copy Ridley Scott would be that, with the exception of a few in recent years, namely Man On Fire, his films look more like music videos and lack any real visual stimulation.

Transporter the third’s story remains somewhat unchanged and circles around a package that needs to be delivered to a certain address, at a certain time or else. Luckily, for all involved, the film runs under an hour and 45 minutes, which means one can drink an entire large soda and hopefully not have to pee until after the masterpiece has finished. Joking aside, Transporter 3 is enjoyable for what it is, light popcorn fare that really isn’t worth $12, but would be a good rental when you’re fighting a winter flu.

The few perks to the film include Robert Knepper’s turn as the villainous Johnson. The character is remarkably similar to Knepper’s T-Bag from Prison Break, albeit without the generic southern American accent, the only caveat being now Knepper is fighting a man who employs brawn over brain. Damn you, Michael Scofield. In the end– spoiler alert– bad guy loses, good guy wins, girl wakes up and realizes this was her only chance to make it big in movies. Natalya Rudakova, enjoy your time in the alternative film industry. Rumour has it Sarah Palin might be joining you.

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