From a minor onscreen thug, Jason Statham has risen to become Hollywood's next
big action hero. Andy Webster traces the actor's slow climb up the ladder to stardom.
To paraphrase Paul Simon, every generation sends an action hero up the box-office charts, whether it was the swashbuckling Douglas Fairbanks in the silent era, the stoic John Wayne midcentury, the hip Steve McQueen in the 1960s and 70s, or the musclebound Sylvester Stallone in the 80s.
The turn of the millennium offered its own template in Jason Statham, whose evolution from a minor screen thug to global action star has brought him to Parker, in which he plays the title character, the celebrated career criminal dreamed up by the novelist Donald E Westlake (writing as Richard Stark).
The production has a seasoned director (Taylor Hackford) and supporting cast (Nick Nolte, Patti LuPone, Michael Chiklis), and a glamorous leading lady (Jennifer Lopez). Will it be the film that finally pushes Statham into a Hollywood tier above his usual shoot-'em-up ghetto? Certainly this actor, 45, possesses a charisma transcending the genre.
Humble beginnings
His debut was modest but promising. The British director Guy Ritchie (Sherlock Holmes) midwifed Statham's arrival, in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, a beery, rambunctious 1998 free-for-all about British gamblers and hooligans.
In the first shot, an uncharacteristically effusive Statham (pronounced STAY-thim) hawks stolen jewellery on the street. It isn't entirely an act; Statham, born in Derbyshire, hustled goods with his father in Norfolk market stalls growing up. Minutes later, when his character, pursued by a constable, bounds over a traffic barrier, we see the agility of this actor, who was for years a member of the British national diving team.
Later, in a frenetic binge-drinking montage, he executes a standing back flip. But Ritchie must have seen something in Statham besides acrobatics; a sympathetic dimension, perhaps, a humanity.
In 2000, Ritchie cast him as the central narrator of Snatch, another British ensemble caper, about diamonds, bookmakers and unlicensed boxing. But Statham was overshadowed by Brad Pitt and Benicio Del Toro, and the role sentenced him to a career as a screen criminal. Who else has titles like The Bank Job and The Italian Job on his resume? There he is as a kidnapper in Cellular, a drug dealer in Turn It Up, a convict in Death Race.
But in his breakthrough, he was a very smooth criminal. In 2002, the French director-producer Luc Besson (La Femme Nikita) cast him as the dapper Frank Martin in The Transporter, an action picture that goes down like cool prosecco. Martin is a getaway driver and underworld deliveryman with principles; any deviation from "the deal" is anathema. Things get complicated when he breaks his code and falls for his cargo (Shu Qi), the daughter of a human trafficker.
Stunning stunts
The Transporter capitalises on gorgeous French Riviera locations, blithe humour, flashy cars and spectacular stunts. And then there is Statham, easily stepping into dazzling fight sequences choreographed by the director, the martial arts veteran Cory Yuen.
Steven Seagal may have aikido moves, but not Statham's elegance in a suit (before Lock, Stock he was a model), nor his compact grace and stubbled, close-cropped sex appeal. (It's no accident that Martin has a habit of doffing his shirt mid-brawl.) Not since Sean Connery had the action genre seen such Continental savoir-faire. Connery, however, couldn't execute a roundhouse kick.
But Statham, the actor, didn't take the genre too seriously. As Clint Eastwood did in City Heat, he sent up his persona in Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor's 2006 cult favourite Crank, a delirious exercise in comic macho excess, edited at blinding speed.
Crank — about a poisoned hit man forced to consume all manner of stimulants (cocaine, Red Bull, epinephrine) to keep his heart from giving out — has Statham piloting a motorcycle in a hospital smock, copulating in front of a tourist bus and calling his girlfriend as he plummets from a helicopter.
Crank 2: High Voltage takes the parody further: Statham bites into jumper cables and fights an opponent amid a shower of sparks at a power station, their slow-motion blows evoking combatants in Japanese monster movies.
The Bank Job, from 2008, directed by Roger Donaldson and based on an actual 1971 London heist, returned Statham to firm ground, buoyed by a tight script, a strong cast, and a role tailor-made for him. As Terry Leather, the leader of a hapless gang, he plays a loyal but flawed husband trying to improve his family's lot, but in over his head with a pornographer, loan sharks and the royal family.
Statham is at his best here: shrewd, tough, compassionate, appealing without a fancy car or a gun. In his plain-spoken bearing he exudes an integrity devoid of upper-crust pretensions. His performance is winning because it feels authentic, and it feels authentic because in the case of Statham, a working-class high school dropout, it is. But acting requires more than authenticity.
In 2006, Statham stretched a little, with London, a little-seen character study about victims of love at a loft party, featuring his Cellular co-stars Jessica Biel and Chris Evans. Statham, as a commodities dealer with a secret, at one point offers a rare display of vulnerability.
It's a worthy effort, but not enough. After all, an action star like Steve McQueen had his dramas (The Cincinnati Kid) and romances (Love With a Proper Stranger), playing not only men of action but men of complexity and inner conflict. Statham needs to do the same.
Lately, he has done only cursory movies — Killer Elite, Safe, The Mechanic — and the Expendables films, orgies of gunplay, explosions and wrinkled pugilists. It remains to be seen whether Parker can raise Statham's standing. His next movie, though, finds him in good company: Hummingbird is a drama written and directed by Steven Knight, in which Statham plays a haunted veteran who assumes a wealthy Londoner's identity. Trust him to put up a good fight; he's pretty skilled at that.
big action hero. Andy Webster traces the actor's slow climb up the ladder to stardom.
To paraphrase Paul Simon, every generation sends an action hero up the box-office charts, whether it was the swashbuckling Douglas Fairbanks in the silent era, the stoic John Wayne midcentury, the hip Steve McQueen in the 1960s and 70s, or the musclebound Sylvester Stallone in the 80s.
The turn of the millennium offered its own template in Jason Statham, whose evolution from a minor screen thug to global action star has brought him to Parker, in which he plays the title character, the celebrated career criminal dreamed up by the novelist Donald E Westlake (writing as Richard Stark).
The production has a seasoned director (Taylor Hackford) and supporting cast (Nick Nolte, Patti LuPone, Michael Chiklis), and a glamorous leading lady (Jennifer Lopez). Will it be the film that finally pushes Statham into a Hollywood tier above his usual shoot-'em-up ghetto? Certainly this actor, 45, possesses a charisma transcending the genre.
Humble beginnings
His debut was modest but promising. The British director Guy Ritchie (Sherlock Holmes) midwifed Statham's arrival, in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, a beery, rambunctious 1998 free-for-all about British gamblers and hooligans.
In the first shot, an uncharacteristically effusive Statham (pronounced STAY-thim) hawks stolen jewellery on the street. It isn't entirely an act; Statham, born in Derbyshire, hustled goods with his father in Norfolk market stalls growing up. Minutes later, when his character, pursued by a constable, bounds over a traffic barrier, we see the agility of this actor, who was for years a member of the British national diving team.
Later, in a frenetic binge-drinking montage, he executes a standing back flip. But Ritchie must have seen something in Statham besides acrobatics; a sympathetic dimension, perhaps, a humanity.
In 2000, Ritchie cast him as the central narrator of Snatch, another British ensemble caper, about diamonds, bookmakers and unlicensed boxing. But Statham was overshadowed by Brad Pitt and Benicio Del Toro, and the role sentenced him to a career as a screen criminal. Who else has titles like The Bank Job and The Italian Job on his resume? There he is as a kidnapper in Cellular, a drug dealer in Turn It Up, a convict in Death Race.
But in his breakthrough, he was a very smooth criminal. In 2002, the French director-producer Luc Besson (La Femme Nikita) cast him as the dapper Frank Martin in The Transporter, an action picture that goes down like cool prosecco. Martin is a getaway driver and underworld deliveryman with principles; any deviation from "the deal" is anathema. Things get complicated when he breaks his code and falls for his cargo (Shu Qi), the daughter of a human trafficker.
Stunning stunts
The Transporter capitalises on gorgeous French Riviera locations, blithe humour, flashy cars and spectacular stunts. And then there is Statham, easily stepping into dazzling fight sequences choreographed by the director, the martial arts veteran Cory Yuen.
Steven Seagal may have aikido moves, but not Statham's elegance in a suit (before Lock, Stock he was a model), nor his compact grace and stubbled, close-cropped sex appeal. (It's no accident that Martin has a habit of doffing his shirt mid-brawl.) Not since Sean Connery had the action genre seen such Continental savoir-faire. Connery, however, couldn't execute a roundhouse kick.
But Statham, the actor, didn't take the genre too seriously. As Clint Eastwood did in City Heat, he sent up his persona in Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor's 2006 cult favourite Crank, a delirious exercise in comic macho excess, edited at blinding speed.
Crank — about a poisoned hit man forced to consume all manner of stimulants (cocaine, Red Bull, epinephrine) to keep his heart from giving out — has Statham piloting a motorcycle in a hospital smock, copulating in front of a tourist bus and calling his girlfriend as he plummets from a helicopter.
Crank 2: High Voltage takes the parody further: Statham bites into jumper cables and fights an opponent amid a shower of sparks at a power station, their slow-motion blows evoking combatants in Japanese monster movies.
The Bank Job, from 2008, directed by Roger Donaldson and based on an actual 1971 London heist, returned Statham to firm ground, buoyed by a tight script, a strong cast, and a role tailor-made for him. As Terry Leather, the leader of a hapless gang, he plays a loyal but flawed husband trying to improve his family's lot, but in over his head with a pornographer, loan sharks and the royal family.
Statham is at his best here: shrewd, tough, compassionate, appealing without a fancy car or a gun. In his plain-spoken bearing he exudes an integrity devoid of upper-crust pretensions. His performance is winning because it feels authentic, and it feels authentic because in the case of Statham, a working-class high school dropout, it is. But acting requires more than authenticity.
In 2006, Statham stretched a little, with London, a little-seen character study about victims of love at a loft party, featuring his Cellular co-stars Jessica Biel and Chris Evans. Statham, as a commodities dealer with a secret, at one point offers a rare display of vulnerability.
It's a worthy effort, but not enough. After all, an action star like Steve McQueen had his dramas (The Cincinnati Kid) and romances (Love With a Proper Stranger), playing not only men of action but men of complexity and inner conflict. Statham needs to do the same.
Lately, he has done only cursory movies — Killer Elite, Safe, The Mechanic — and the Expendables films, orgies of gunplay, explosions and wrinkled pugilists. It remains to be seen whether Parker can raise Statham's standing. His next movie, though, finds him in good company: Hummingbird is a drama written and directed by Steven Knight, in which Statham plays a haunted veteran who assumes a wealthy Londoner's identity. Trust him to put up a good fight; he's pretty skilled at that.