The Transporter
© James C. Hess
According to the panel moderator--a severe looking woman clad in black leather and latex, who, incidentially, actually carried a riding crop, who looked like she had come from the bad part of William Gibson's imagination--Cinema has a sexuality. A sexuality, she asserted, that was determined by the country of origin. The United States, for example, produces cinema that is predominately masculine. Canada, at the same time, produces films and movies that are undeniably feminine. Not female. Feminine.
And so forth.
Now all was going swimmingly well until someone from the audience asked the panel moderator how she defined the cinema of the United Kingdom.
The dominatrix, er, panel moderator looked straight at the person who asked the question and said, without hesitation or pause: Zee English haf no sexuality.
As one might expect that provoked a less than pleasant and completely unrepeatable retort from the individual who had asked the question. It also served to make things for the remainder of the discussion rather uncomfortable and awkward for all.
But there is good in all of this: If the cinema of the United States is predominately masculine, then there is actual reason and justification for films and movies the likes of "The Transporter": Superficially a macho flick it is, in reality, a castrated male fantasy. Consider: There is that suave element easily and shamelessly lifted from James Bond. There is the ballet like element lifted without pause or concern from Hong Kong action flicks. There is the synergy of these two. All of which go to make--superficially--for interesting moviegoing.
But just try and follow the story that is supposed to be the foundation upon which all of this is built and--
Not happening.
Since we are talking about the story, let us talk about the movie as is: It stars Jason Statham as Frank Martin, Also Known As: The Transporter. His job is simple: He will transport anything anywhere. For a price. Of course there are conditions to this: He never changes a deal once it is made, he does not ask for nor wants names, and he never looks in the package he is in agreement to transport.
That is. . . until now.
But I am getting ahead of the story, which has a tendency to lumber and limp along. Like the aforementioned James Bond Martin is suave. But unlike Bond he is without morals or ethics: He works strictly for the money exchanged.
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