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Written by Ivan Radford
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Friday, 26 September 2008 00:00 |
 Director: Paul W.S. Anderson Cast: Jason Statham, Ian McShane, Joan Allen Certificate: 15 Trailer A man with no hair, a grudge and a car with big guns – Jason Statham has done it again. Quite how he manages to find these parts is beyond me. Especially given that the characters all happen to look just like him. If Jensen Ames, laid-off steel worker and former racing legend, had a full head of hair, Statham would’ve been screwed. Who could have played this dumb, macho part if not he? Jason Statham: king of folically challenged action heroes.
Here, Jason has been locked up for a crime he didn’t commit: the murder of his wife. The good news for him is that he’s landed in Joan Allen’s Sing Sing, where inmates can find glory, respect and even earn their escape in a televised race to the death, cunningly called Death Race. Assisted by Lovejoy (Ian McShane), whose crime we aren’t told (he probably bludgeoned a man to death with a 18th century Forbes candlestick), Statham gets the chance to take on the persona of masked racer Frankenstein – either a cruel in-joke about Jason’s appearance, or a crappy movie gimmick. Tempted by Joan, whose steely character is shown by the fact that she occasionally utters a naughty word, he agrees. Cue car-nage galore. And that’s the best thing about this film: the exploding vehicles.
Directed by Paul W.S. Anderson (Resident Evil, not Magnolia), Death Race is as stupid as they come. With no pretence of plot or motivations, this retarded remake is teen fodder to die for. The Transporter, Crank, now this – quite how Statham finds these ridiculous films nobody knows. The most likely explanation is that these things have actually happened to him; Jason has an autobiography so outrageous that he has to hire a movie crew and make up a script to stop anyone guessing the truth. No wonder his characters are always so bald.
VERDICT
Another entry in Statham’s litany of misdeeds, Death Race has lots of things what blow up in it. Terribly entertaining? No, just terrible.
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