2006, Lionsgate/Lakeshore Productions, Dir. Mark Neveldine/Brian Taylor - Starring Jason Statham, Amy Smart, Efren Ramirez, Dwight Yoakam, Jose Pablo Cantillo, Carlos Sanz, Reno Wilson, Edi Gathegi, Glenn Howerton, Keone Young, Valarie Rae Miller

Sometimes I tend to avoid using artistic terms to describe mainstream Hollywood movies, as to not sound like I’ve started reviewing for Pitchfork Media. But after watching Crank, this season’s latest from perennial hitman Jason Statham, I can’t avoid the vocabulary. You’ve probably seen an ad or two for Crank depicting some sort of high-octane thrill ride, incorporating sex, violence, and drugs into its meager storyline. All you’ve seen is true, but you’re still not going to believe what you’re about to see. From the minute the first scene rolls, the directorial team of Neveldine and Taylor exhibit a movie on a rampage. Its action borders on sheer surrealism, and its execution is a blend of adrenaline and cinéma vérité. You already know what you paid for before you entered the theater, you’re simply curious how they fulfill it. Although the film in itself is not excellent, Crank’s balance of style and rhythm should be recognized with an open mind. Film is about bringing people to different places, and you’ll swear you haven’t been sitting in an chair for the last hour and twenty minutes.

Chev Chelios (Statham) is having a bad day. He’s a professional assassin (what a surprise for Statham), and he’s woken up with shaking fingers and a heart that’s hardly beating. Watching a cleverly placed DVD next to his television, he learns that enemy thug Ricky Verona (Cantillo) has poisoned him with a Chinese synthetic. Chev’s doctor (Yoakam) describes it as the “Beijing Cocktail” which melds with his blood cells, and can only be delayed by constant adrenaline. Chev doesn’t have a lot of time until his demise comes around, but he’s not spending it writing a will. He gets in his car, drives around town, and is damned that he dies before he gets his revenge on Verona and the gang. With the help of his transexual friend Caylo (Ramirez) and unknowing girlfriend Eve (Smart), Chev finds one connection after another, only to unveil a thickening plot element that explains how it all went down in the first place. But as time winds down, our hero needs to keep himself fueled.

Jason Statham must either love or hate the movie industry, as he’s stuck in another infuriated action hero role. Regardless of the politics, he shines once again as Chev Chelios. Chev is no more different than Frank Martin the Transporter, as they both converse regularly in raspy whispers, and tend to lose their tempers. Here’s the Transporter fueled on too much Vault in one sitting. But Statham does what he’s supposed to do - take names, kick ass, and make out furiously with Amy Smart. Smart, on the other hand, is just used as a tool to further the plot. Her acting is about as average as it can get, but she’s there for the adrenaline - Chev needs sex to keep his heart beating too, remember? Jose Cantillo is stereotypical gangster as Ricky Verona, even getting a slick nickname that’s about as real as his forced accent. But I digress: these actors and actresses shouldn’t even have to be referenced. Neveldine and Taylor have made a one-man action force, and the movie is pretty much lubricated and run by Statham. Not even a role from Napoleon Dynamite’s Efren Ramirez can change that.

To elaborate on the words I used earlier, this is not your average action movie, albeit its extensive use of violence and naked women to garner an audience. It is a head trip, and the directors put their focus in the storytelling rather than the story. Sound effects, subtitles, flashbacks, split-screen, and musical interludes are used to channel direct interaction between the film and the audience’s brains. Some may walk out complaining from a headache (as my friend did), but I don’t think the directors wanted otherwise. The movie’s intent is to delve into the same energy rush that Chev is experiencing - and they succeed with flying colors. Shot with high-definition cameras, the mood is continuously gritty and crispy, grinding away at the story like Statham’s voice. One will argue its use of style over substance, but if there’s a problem, I suggest you not see the movie. This isn’t a story - it’s a mental journey to some degree. Neveldine and Taylor’s movie is strictly style and rhythm, and it’s quite fun.

Without a doubt, Crank proves to be one of the most unique action films I’ve seen in awhile. Sure, you could have your Tony Scott movie with similar camerawork, but here you have a movie dedicated to the art rather than the artist. Don’t leave your Advil at home for this one.