The Transporter - Page 2
© James C. Hess
But I digress. In the beginning of the movie we get a glimpse of what sort of man Martin is: He drives his BMW as the getaway car for a gang of bank thieves. Therein, immediately, is a problem: Martin was told there would be only three bank robbers, and four want in his car. Rule of the business: Never change the deal. So he remedies the situation: He shoots the fourth bandit and drives away.
Onward.
Which, as already noted, the movie does, albeit in a lumbering and limping fashion.
I would like to say I like this movie, but strip away all the action sequences and there is, honestly, no movie at all. Which is unfortunate, given the director is Corey Yuen, who made a solid reputation for himself in Hong Kong, as a director of martial arts films and movies; the producer/writer is Luc Besson, who, of late, has made himself a reputation as well as a producer of white knuckle entertainment.
But back to the story: Martin is given a large duffle bag to transport. It squirms. He opens it and comes face-to-face with a beautiful woman. Who, of course, causes him to break all his own rules.
There are more car chases. There are more shooting sequences. And there is sex. Raw sex. But, still, not much of a story.
Which, in a disjointed way, brings me back to that panel discussion I attended previously and the notion suggested. Now. If the cinema of the United States is predominately masculine, then what does that make an international flick like this?
A hollow man, perhaps?
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