Entertainment, Movies - Navy Times

Car wreck

In the postindustrial wreckage of the not-too-distant future, the U.S. economy is on fumes, unemployment is at record levels, and the teeming masses must be fed lots of raw meat to keep them sated and docile.

With corporations now running all prisons for profit, the easiest way to provide such diversions is by turning convicts into modern-day gladiators and pitting them against each other in blood-soaked spectacles, all streamed live on pay-per-view, of course.

The most popular of these is “Death Race.” NASCAR, it ain’t — the souped-up, heavily armored vehicles are equipped with flamethrowers, machine guns, grenade launchers and other toys. Napalm, anyone?

To further goose the ratings, female cons who all look like they stepped out of the Sing Sing edition of the Victoria’s Secret catalog are bused in to serve as the racers’ “navigators.”

Jason Statham, the deadpan, gravel-voiced Brit from the “Transporter” films and other hard-boiled action flicks, is a former racing champ framed for murder and forced into “Death Race” by the primly corrupt warden, played by Joan Allen ...

Whoa — whowiththewhatnow?

The acclaimed Joan Allen, who portrayed Pat Nixon, lent her luster to the “Bourne” franchise as a conflicted CIA honcho, and enhanced such minor gems as “The Contender,” “The Ice Storm” and “The Upside of Anger”?

Oh, why not? After all, absurd is the word at the octoplex when summer wanes and the studios reach for the cheese that’s been aging on the shelf for several months while the big, high-profile blockbusters have rolled thunder.

And Allen’s presence is certainly no odder than the rest of “Death Race,” a reimagining of Roger Corman’s 1975 film, “Death Race 2000,” mixed with DNA strands from “The Running Man,” “Mad Max” and about 50 other B-movies.

It’s wholly fitting that Corman, one of the most legendary schlockmeisters in movie history, gets an executive producer credit here. He’s clearly found a devoted acolyte in writer-director Paul W.S. Anderson, whose own résumé reeks of such B-movie cheese as “Event Horizon,” “Soldier,” “Mortal Kombat” and the “Resident Evil” franchise.

There isn’t much more to say, really. Statham, aided by his crew (Ian McShane, Frederick Koehler and Jacob Vargas) and navigator (Natalie Martinez, doing most of her acting with her cleavage and turning in Oscar-worthy work), circles the prison track over three days, grinding metal with Tyrese Gibson and the other psychopathic drivers and fueled by Allen’s baldly insincere promises that he can win his freedom by winning the race.

Yet within his twisted little universe, Anderson bucks the odds to stay within hailing distance of coherence, at least for a while. And he even takes a few stabs at social commentary, as when McShane turns to the camera after a particularly gory race mash-up and growls: “Now that’s entertainment!”

But Anderson can’t bring it home, and it all goes south in a hurry in the last half-hour, capped by a scene in which Allen wigs out and lets fly with my favorite line of the millennium to date. It can’t be repeated here, but you’ll know when you hear it.

I’m still trying to figure out just what it means. But give Anderson props — it’s an inanity so breathtaking that it almost qualifies as high art.

Die-hard motorheads and video-game wizards may derive a few fleeting thrills from “Death Race.” But everyone else can wait for the DVD — or the inevitable Xbox and PS3 titles.

Rated R for twisted, wall-to-wall mayhem. Got a rant or rave about the movies? E-mail cvinch@atpco.com.

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