Hi there. It’s me (Jeremy Martin) talking to you (your name here) directly for a moment. If you’re reading this review right now, I’m asking that you contact me at the email address above and describe exactly what is going through your mind right now. I’m just curious about what your intentions might be in reading a review of this film. (Though, if I can secure government funding, I might compile your responses for a sociological study.) If you can comprehend written language, I would assume you already understand that this movie sucks.
Think about it for a minute; really let it sink in. The pitch meeting for the first film probably went something like: “Jason Statham drive car. Go fast. Shoot gun,” followed by 45 minutes of Hollywood executives making explosion noises. And this is the third movie in the series. Aren’t you a little worried the filmmakers have run out of ideas at this point? Answer: Oh, god, have they ever. In fact, I don’t think you can prove, in any meaningful sense, that Transporter 3 is a different film from the original Transporter.
After really jumping the shark in the second film with all that business about Statham driving fast to rescue a kidnapped child and stop viral terrorism (I haven’t seen it, and you can’t make me.), the Transporter franchise is back to doing what it does best — Statham driving fast to save the life of a hot chick (Rudakova). And you need to read a review to tell you this film is bad? If so, here’s a tip: Pull your pants down before you sit on the toilet, but pull them up before you leave the restroom. That has nothing to do with the movie, but it seems like something you might need to know.
I understand that as an intelligent guy or gal, you enjoy explosions, car chases, and cleavage and/or furry, muscle-y man-chests as much as the monkeyish masses we like to feel superior to, and that’s fine. Have your guilty pleasure. But don’t expect me to justify Transporter 3 by discussing it like it’s an actual film. The word “story” has no application here, and even the action sequences are pretty much unwatchable. Any scene that you might enjoy is immediately followed by something so ludicrous you’ll want to punch the smile off your own face. Statham’s car gets stolen, so he chases it down on a BMX bicycle. He drives between two semi trucks after tipping his car up on two wheels and driving it for several minutes on the open road. That’s so idiotically impossible you couldn’t even kill yourself attempting it.
But if I can’t convince you to stay away, just look at the credits. The film’s directed by Olivier Megaton. That alone should be a red flag, not because you’ve ever heard of the guy, but because he’s making an explosion-heavy action movie and he’s calling himself Olivier Megaton. He’s obviously using a fake name, here, like he would if he’d directed a porn film. What does that say to you? Seriously, let me know. If you’re still considering paying actual money to see this film, I think we need to study how your brain works.
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