Crank Review

Bottom-Line: Far too many movies coming out of Hollywood these days are like Crank: soulless, poorly written, overly violent, obtuse, foul mouthed caricatures of American society.

Directed and written by Mark Naveldine and Brien Taylor, Crank begins as hit man Chev Chelios (Statham - The Transporter, Transporter 2, Cellular) wakes up from a nap to find himself pumped full of a drug known as the "Beijing Cocktail."  The drug in question that can only be counteracted by keeping his adrenaline levels sky high, so Chelios puts himself into several situations wherein he can of course raise his adrenaline levels include a public sexual romp with his girlfriend Eve, (Amy Smart - Felicity, Road Trip, The Butterfly Effect).  He also huffs cocaine, chugs Red Bull, snorts nasal decongestant, and of course drives at high speeds all while he litters the L.A. landscape with mutilated corpses and spent ammo casings. 

My Viewpoint

Where to begin!  Crank is a mess!  In the hands and minds of new-comers Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, this so-called action film is littered with plot holes I could drive an Ice Trucker rig through.  For instance how did Ricky manage to get into Chev's apartment un-detected in the first place in order to administer the fatal dose of drugs designed to kill him? And since when are hit-man light sleepers?    

After watching Crank one walks away with the feeling the movie is at least aptly named.  Not all of Crank was a total loss; there were those engaging shot of Ms. Smart playing her part in itty bitsy, leave-little-to-the-imagination hip hugging white panties.  And the perfunctory car chase scenes weren't bad either; you know the bad men with big guns are going to die, but it's always interesting seeing how.                

Far too many movies coming out of Hollywood these days are like Crank: soulless, poorly written, overly violent, obtuse, foul mouthed caricatures of American society that lack meaning and substance.  They are mindless affairs that invite the viewer to divorce him or herself-but mostly (himself)-of conscience thought, to suspend reality and indulge in the gratuitous.  No thanks, I like my brain.