'Death Race' is loud, pointless
Last Updated on 12/4/2008
Published on 8/28/2008
By Meredith Carter
From start to finish, "Death Race" functions primarily as porno for pyros (and I'm not talking about the now-defunct L.A. alternative band fronted by Perry Farrell).
Any and all explosion addicts need only wander into the nearest multiplex, buy a ticket for the latest Jason Statham Movie -- which is precisely what "Death Race" is -- and wait anxiously for the onscreen explosions to begin. And, for 89 minutes, that's exactly what viewers get: a whole mess of cars blowing up, catching other cars (and occasionally an armor-plated semi) on fire and causing those cars to blow up even more loudly and impressively. It's like "Gone in 60 Seconds" meets "Resident Evil" (not surprising, since Paul Anderson directed that trilogy), except the dialogue is infinitely dumber and the actors all have less personality than Nicholas Cage's toupée.
Therein, of course, lies the problem: SBU (Stuff Blows Up) movies are great fun, but there's got to be something else -- like, for example, a point -- to keep us interested. In "Death Race," there isn't, which makes the entire affair seem like one excruciating explosion stretched out into an 89-minute movie.
Then again, maybe that's all that could be done with this kind of movie. Consider the plot: The year is 2012, America's economy has collapsed and prisons are now run by private, for-profit corporations. Enter the hero, Jensen Ames (Statham), an ex-con/ex-racer shipped off to Terminal Island, the nation's most notorious prison, for murdering his wife. Warden Hennessey (a remarkably miscast Joan Allen) offers him a choice: win one kill-or-be-killed car race against his murderous fellow inmates and he'll go free to reclaim his baby daughter from foster care. The races are televised for the public's viewing pleasure, so Hennessey includes a few surprises in each race. Along the way, Ames meets a string of MPTs (Movie Prison Types), including the Wise Old Soul (Ian McShane, who seems pained at having to deliver such corny lines), the Loose Cannon Whipper-Snapper (Tyrese Gibson), the Surly Aryan Fellow (Max Ryan) and the Sexy Babe Who Can Only Be Introduced Properly with Beyoncé Playing in the Background (Natalie Martinez).
There's little need to say more about the characters except to note that they are all, without exception, grossly and unimaginatively stereotypical. They do and say things that have been done and said in thousands of better cars-blow-up action/prison movies. There's never a single moment where a character expresses anything other than a cliché or a platitude or a four-letter word (and not even an imaginative dirty word). Of course, with movies like this there's no need to dazzle us with, say, character development. Still, is it too much to ask for even one character to express an original thought? Can anyone say ANYTHING that doesn't sound like it was ripped from the "Prison Movie Dialogue 101" textbook?
The only thing worse than the dialogue is the actors who deliver it. Gibson, who's never been much of a "method actor," could be forgiven for his performance, but what about McShane? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. So good in "Deadwood," McShane is a mess here. As for Statham, well, he displays none of the droll wit he exhibited in "Snatch." Talk about phoning it in. Even Statham seems to know there's not much point in enthusiasm with a movie like this.
Which brings us, full circle, to the main problem in the sloppy, stupid "Death Race." The script only accentuates the point that there is no point. None. The director doesn't care, the actors don't care, nobody cares.
Unless, that is, explosions rock your world.
Grade: D
