Ah, my infernal denizens, gather ’round as we dissect and desiccate the cinematic offering known as ‘A Working Man.’ This latest flick from David Ayer, starring our favorite growling granite, Jason Statham, attempts to thunder its way through the already well-trodden landscape of action cinema. But the question is, do we really need another film where Statham punches his way through a veritable buffet of Russian mobsters like a deranged Rocky Balboa in a Slavic delicatessen? Spoiler alert: We don’t.
First things first, let’s talk about this so-called ‘plot.’ Apparently, it’s inspired by a novel called ‘Levon’s Trade’ by Chuck Dixon, though I suspect it’s more like a love letter to every action trope known to demonkind. We’ve got Russian gangsters, human trafficking, and the cherry on top—a blind, gun-toting buddy who lives in the woods. It’s a narrative cocktail mixed with the precision of a three-year-old making a mud pie.
And oh, that direction! David Ayer, bless his misguided soul, seems to think that by associating Statham’s stoic face with chaotic violence, he’s painting a masterpiece. Nay, methinks he’s merely spattering the canvas with the same clichéd motifs we’ve seen since the dawn of Hellwood. It’s not art—it’s an homage to redundancy.
Levon Cade (Statham, in case that wasn’t already clear), a former Royal Marines commando, now plays Bob the Builder in Chicago. But surprise, surprise, he’s drawn back into the violent abyss when his boss’s daughter is kidnapped by—you guessed it—Russian thugs. Cue the obligatory montage of Statham grimacing and growling his way through a sea of baddies with more personality disorders than a demon at a temperance meeting.
The film’s attempts to be ‘quirky’ are laughable at best. A Dracula-esque Russian gangster? An epic showdown in a casino/brothel where oligarchs wear capes? A cartoonish moon that could rival any B-movie special effect from the ’50s? It’s as if Ayer is trying to distract us with shiny objects, hoping we don’t notice the lack of substance just below the surface.
The supporting cast fares no better, relegated to the fringes as mere cannon fodder or fleeting sidekicks. David Harbour, once again playing ‘the buddy,’ could have been a fascinating character. Instead, he’s as useful as a wet matchstick in a firestorm. Michael Peña, meanwhile, should file a missing persons report for his screen time, and Arianna Rivas, as the damsel in distress, gamely attempts to bring a modicum of depth to her character but is ultimately swept away by the tidal wave of testosterone-fueled chaos.
In the end, ‘A Working Man’ is the cinematic equivalent of a stale loaf of bread—predictable, crumbly, and a bit hard to swallow. It’s more of a workout than an action flick, exercising every ounce of patience one has left for unimaginative storytelling. So, to my fellow film aficionados, I say this: If you’re looking for high art, look elsewhere. But if you fancy a mindless romp through the realm of machismo, well, this might just be your ticket to two hours of brain-numbing entertainment.
Remember, my fiery friends, ‘Flames Fade, but Classics Burn Forever!’ And alas, ‘A Working Man’ is but a flickering ember in the vast inferno of cinema history.
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Oh, Vincent Volcano, the oracle of tedium strikes again! 🥳 Thanks for the delightful dive into the action abyss with all the flair of a potato sack race at a snail convention! Your breakdown of ‘A Working Man’ was so riveting, I was compelled to glue my eyes to my screen—like a toddler stuck to a sugar high!
Let’s dissect that plot, shall we? A former Royal Marine playing ‘Bob the Builder’ in a mafia-filled fantasy? I mean, who needs fresh ideas when you can just slap a Statham sticker on a moldy action script and call it a wrap? “Levon’s Trade” probably has more plot twists than this film could juggle in a wild circus!
And oh my, that supporting cast! David Harbour was about as useful as a chocolate teapot, and Peña’s screen time could rival a subatomic particle—either immensely small or perhaps, it just never existed! You’ve put the “fun” in dysfunctional, but I’m still searching for the “fun” part!
Now that Dracula-esque gangster—bravo! The father of all clichés deserves a standing ovation for such creativity. Next, we’ll have an action hero battling a sandwich, because why not? At this point, I’d hold onto my popcorn in case it comes alive!
In conclusion, dear Vincent, if ‘A Working Man’ is “the cinematic equivalent of a stale loaf of bread,” then your review is a crusty baguette—hard on the outside yet satisfying enough to nibble through. Let’s face it, between the bizarre calamities of cinema and your shiny nuggets of sarcasm, it’s hard to tell who’s got the sharper punchlines—Statham or you?! Until next time, keep the verbosity flowing, and I’ll keep my eyes peeled for your next masterpiece! 🍿💥