Jason Statham is put on fine display in Simon West's remake of the Charles Bronson killer thriller, "The Mechanic."
We're treated to the Statham stare, the Statham strut. And the Statham sternum. Because Statham wouldn't be Statham without Statham shirtless.
It's a modestly effective but jaw-droppingly violent picture, one that begins with promise but weasels its way into unlik-ability.
It's also a fairly faithful remake of the original, with Statham starring as Albert Bishop, a high-priced hit man who speaks in euphemisms.
The film opens with a gripping Bond-like gambit as a Colombian drug lord is drowned by Bishop while swimming in the pool inside his fortress mansion. West ("Con Air") sets the tone right off. The violence here isn't going to be neat and pretty.
Bishop's handler is Harry, played with gruff professionalism by Donald Sutherland, who mastered a wheelchair for the part. When their boss (Tony Goldwyn) orders Bishop to take out Harry, things get complicated.
Bishop takes on Harry's troubled son as an apprentice. Steve is played by Ben Foster ("3:10 to Yuma," "The Messenger"), a violent, drunken drifter whom Bishop trains out of guilt. As long as the kid doesn't figure out the teacher snuffed his dad, things'll go fine, right?
The bad taste the movie leaves in your mouth starts with some of the victims. In finding people who "deserve" their fate, the script points Bishop and Steve at a hulking gay hit man, saying "he likes young boys." But if the nearly-30 Steven is his type, that's not exactly true, is it? You're just playing into audience homophobia.
