ADRENALINE JUNKIES APPLY HERE Review by Scott Weitz Rating: September 1 , 2006 Key to the success — or failure — of a film like CRANK is finding the audience who want and accept the movie for what it is, and isn't.  From the trailer campaign on to release, one should have expected a simple concept: angry Brit wreaks autofire havoc and awful revenge on his enemies.  Tactically, and wisely, Lionsgate had delivered just that by pumping CRANK into theaters: a tale devoted to film's power to jam adrenaline through the hearts of its audience as much as its hero.  Seek nearly non-stop action and you will find it.  If you're willing to surrender logical reality for the sake of escapist entertainment, this movie is outrageously willing to comply.  CRANK is pure end-of-summer chaos and nonsense with a violent bite and quirky humor, refusing to take itself too seriously, so neither should you.

From the opening frames of CRANK, we are living the last hours of Chev Chelios' life, and time flies when you're having poison-induced, adrenaline-craving fun tearing apart Los Angeles for revenge. 

Hero has minutes to live and must devote every breath to avenging his unjust death sentence on his executioners: it's a plot gimmick used before, from the noir notable D.O.A. made in 1950, to a forgettable 1996 film RAGE.  Standard revenge melodrama fodder has now been given a slick, stylized update by the writing/directing team of Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, who take their plot's requisite constant fix for adrenaline quite literally in both their hero's journey and their filmmaking debut.

This creative duo graduated from directing commercials, and their deliberately frenetic method of telling this story displays all the carefully considered cunning behind the camera one expects.  CRANK's wild, relentless pace shifts into high gear from the first frames in a disorienting world of warped POVs and eye-blink edits — all intended, as we soon learn, to put us in Chev's poisoned nightmare.   In effect, the co-directors immediately challenge the audience to sit forward in their seats and get themselves in gear as well: settling into your cushy multiplex chair won't cut it, folks.  You bought the ticket, now get on the ride and hang on.

Accept that mission and you will enjoy this stunning and sometimes silly rampage exactly for what it promises and delivers: a cinematic celebration of heart-thumping action that aims low in drama, but repeatedly centers the target on stunt-packed fury.

The best news is there are some semblances of character to join us on this wild ride, namely recently-minted action flick icon Jason Statham as Chev Chelios.  Statham has quickly built a career playing this type of character again and again, but without his personal charm and wryly dark wit, such repetition would be numbing.  Instead, Statham skillfully entices his audience to invest their sympathy in even his most criminally ruthless characters.  Witness in this go-round Mr. Chelios, a hired hitman who routinely murders with efficient ease, that is until he suddenly decides to grow a conscience and let his intended target escape alive.

This pivotal moment in Chev's life happened the night before the story opens, as Chelios opts to quit the assassination biz in the employ of an L.A. crime syndicate so that he can escape with his girlfriend, Eve.  As expected, his gangster pals disapprove of Chev's betrayal, and send their lieutenant Ricky Verona to kill Chelios.  The weapon of choice: an injection of a Chinese synthetic drug dubbed Bejing Cocktail which in mere hours will cause Chev heart failure.   And thus the plot ensues, as Verona's arrogant pride has foolishly left time on the game clock for Chelios to diagnose his own impending murder and exact his revenge.

Either actor Statham was born to play such melodrama men of iron will, or such films are born for Statham to make a meal of . . . pick 'em.  Regardless which you choose, Jason Statham quickly enlists our support even as he discovers the power and peril of his violent rage.  So sly is his delivery, so smooth his attitude, that Statham has become a post-modern poster boy for creating terrible people you enjoy.  His role as Chelios fails to satisfy as completely as his delightful creation of Turkish in Guy Ritchie's 2000 gem SNATCH, but only because CRANK's dramatic ambitions are more modest.  On the other hand, the fact that Statham can pull off being a walking deadly weapon with his bare ass hanging out of a hospital gown proves that he hasn't lost anything off his game.

Still Statham has plenty of fun in the part, firing off rounds of tough-guy sarcasm on pace with his emptied ammo clips, but to the script's credit the humor is mostly organic to Chev's character.  This humor is exhibited mainly between Chev and his love, Eve, played with playful gusto by Amy Smart.  As written, Eve behaves quite unevenly in both temperament and motivation — even illogically at times — but Smart manages to overcome these on-page flaws in her quirky performance.  Sometimes alluring, sometimes silly to a ditzy extreme which cheapens the character, the actress fights back in scene moments to keep the audience on her side as Chev's true reason to live his last moments.  We may not give up our world and our lives to love Eve, but through the comic teamwork of Statham and Smart, we can at least understand why Chev would give up all he knows to love his woman: they're a good and goofy match that's fun to watch.

Chelios has betrayed a cabal of criminal thugs, one or two too many for the film's own good, but the poison-pumping antagonism is provided by Jose Pablo Cantillo as Ricky Verona.  Again Verona is not written deeply enough to become a classic figure in the gangster/heist/revenge genre pantheon, but some weaknesses in his character are deliberate and logical targets for Chelios to exploit, and Cantillo rises to the challenge.  Carlos Sanz plays the thug cartel's leader, Carlito, in a role underwritten to the point that Sanz's efforts cannot lift the character off the page beyond his plot functionary duty.  Another underworld denizen, Orlando, is afforded slightly better treatment by the script and actor Reno Wilson in a brief but enjoyable appearance as Chelios' ally and foil.

Rounding out the notable support cast is singer-slash-improving-actor Dwight Yoakam as Doc Miles, a strangely comic blend that's one part hedonistic sloth and two parts medicine man who diagnoses (with laughable ease) Chev's poisonous predicament.  In a fairly smart comedic twist, Doc Miles has all of the answers for Chev but offers none of the solutions, beyond his main and more satisfying purpose of supplying his dying best friend with expert advice and empathy.  One suspects Yoakam has developed enough acting talent to know how to underplay this role to its best effect in the film, and if so, more power to him.

One of CRANK's thematic strengths arises from the amped-up cinematography of Adam Biddle, worthy inheritor of DP talent from the late and great Adrian Biddle, whose last work was the excellent V FOR VENDETTA.  Here Adam Biddle's restless camera captures and dramatizes Chelios' own drugged confusion and adrenaline-fueled fury, pushing the edge of what an audience can and will tolerate for 87 minutes without exhausting their eyes or patience.  Co-directors Neveldine and Taylor put Biddle and film editor Brian Berdan through their paces, no doubt, as the action flies by in pedal-to-the-metal pacing and rapid-fire cutting, but all with a dramatic purpose.  This collaboration creates a true and unique film style, not merely an 'edgy look' that is equally empty of intent.

Credit is also due to Lionsgate Films, which has developed a satisfying and successful track record of targeting specific genre films (currently the horror hit SAW trilogy among others) and attracting audiences with dead-on accuracy.   Sure CRANK is likely aimed at young, adolescent males seeking a quick gun-and-blood action fix, but the end product — while not intended for the masses — nevertheless can and will likely appeal to a broader demographic than intended.  Know thy audience, deliver unto them what they want, then give them a little for shake for their sugar equals extended success.

If CRANK has one flaw, it arises from the plot's inevitable conclusion: while I credit the script for not cheating on its own plot demands as set up for the preceding 80 minutes, the finale simply falls flat (yes, literally with pun intended).  To extend the roller coaster ride analogy, the film turns its final corner and pulls into the station — ride over, please disembark the theater and enjoy the rest of your day.  My disappointment results from the lack of wit and quirky flavor in this ending which otherwise was so evident through the first 9/10ths of the story.  One hopes the good news is that we want more time to enjoy with Chev Chelios, but as honest to the plot gimmick as the finale is, I'd hoped for more dramatic satisfaction that it delivered.

Overlooking this weak spot, CRANK delivers on its aorta-jamming premise and promise with an intoxicating cocktail of wild action, bloody mayhem and wacky comedy that inspires out-loud laughs and tense thrills.  September 1st is the perfect release date for this film — the cutting, dark edge of summer cinema — and CRANK quickly gets under your skin like a sharp needle to juice you up for an hour-and-a-half of rough-riding entertainment; that's all it is, but happily that's enough.