Confused Reviews: The Transporter

Jason Statham and The Transporter come under the confused eye of Matt Edwards...

Jason Statham has developed quite a cult following while I haven’t been paying attention. It seems that men on both sides of the Atlantic have been falling deeply in love with his films. I had no idea what the attraction was for these men, so I decided to give The Transporter a try.

The film starts with Statham cruising around Europe (nowhere specifically, just Europe) listening to I Will Survive on repeat. He runs through a red light and then pulls over on a double yellow line. He hops out of his car, which is a black Ferrari-Porsche BMW mega-cruiser KY-Series 6.9. Very flash, indeed. He delivers a pizza to some house, but disappears inside, probably to get a tip or something. About forty minutes later he hops back into his car and heads home, driving just slightly over the speed limit the entire time, the bloody rascal.

When he gets home he finds a policeman waiting for him.

“Hold on a minute,” says Statham, who strips down to his boxer shorts. It’s warm and he’s sweaty. “Okay, go ahead.”

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“What is it you do, Mr. Sexy Man?” asks the cop in a European accent. He notices some crumbs on his face from lunch and so licks them away from his lips.

“I have a package, I deliver that package to whoever wants it and then they give me some money,” says Statham, in a sort of English-American accent hybrid.

“I don’t like the way you drive. You have very little respect for the Highway Code. However, we are a little bit friends, so I am prepared to settle this with a hug.”

They hug intensely for about eight minutes.

Statham then heads in to go to bed. Before bed, though, he stretches and does lunges for about an hour, and then relaxes in a nice hot bath. Then he sleeps on top of the covers, in just his underwear. When he wakes up, he finds a girl in his kitchen making breakfast. This confuses Statham, and me as an audience member, but he eats his Shreddies whilst he tries to work out what exactly is going on.

“I don’t know who you are,” says Statham “but you’ll have to leave. I’ll escort you out underwater just as soon as I’ve got my Speedos on.”

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He swims her to the nearest beach and then notices that his house has been blown up. He watches the explosion as his wet torso glistens in the sun. Statham then flexes himself dry, really straining those Speedos at every seam.

“Who are you and why has my house blown up?” Statham questions of this girl who is quite rudely blocking our view of his chest.

“You recently delivered a package to my boyfriend,” she says.

“Ah” mumbles the Statham, trying to avoid eye contact “then this is awkward.”

“He is now very angry because he knows he well never receive another package in quite the same very nice way again. He says that you are the best at delivering package and that the he must be the only man to ever receive package from you. He says he must have you killed. I come to warn you and to serve you some Shreddies, which, with any luck, will keep your hunger under lock until lunchtime,” she says.

They go to visit the cop from earlier, who is stunned to see Statham with this girl. They explain the situation to him and he suggests they solve the whole mystery on a computer somehow. They use a computer to find out where her boyfriend’s criminal base is. The Statham finds another car to drive there in.

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They arrive at a small warehouse down by the docks. Statham smashes through the doors, rips off his clothes and douses himself in oil. He takes some time to really rub the oil into his body, getting into all of the nooks and crannies.

“Come on then, who wants a wrestle?” he shouts at several bemused-looking henchmen. They decide to fight him. He punches and kicks them all, making a real effort to have a right good grapple with as many as possible. He’s just so slippery that they can’t hold him down. Finally he tickles the ringleader into submission and finds out that the man who blew up his house is in a car outside, waiting for a chase.

Statham skids his way into a car and chases the evil house exploder across Europe, all the while thumping out Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler on the cars stereo. He jumps out of his car and delivers a serious beat down to the bad guy, complete with lots of wrestling holds. He hands the bad guy over to the cops, who have all gathered around to cheer him on.

“I’ve won. Celebration hugs all round,” shouts a triumphant Statham. The girl goes to hug him to show how close they’ve become.

“No, not you,” he says, pushing her out of the way and melting into the arms of the cop from the beginning. Then the sun sets.

All in all, I don’t understand what it is that men seem to find so appealing about Jason Statham films. It just made me feel confused and tingly. That said, I give it a rating of five out of five because for some reason I can’t wait to watch it again.

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Find more of Matt’s Confused Reviews right here