David Ayer, along with the obvious-to-the-trained-eye influence of Sly Stallone, produce another Jason Statham flick where Jason plays Jason. The longer Statham’s filmography extends, the more we realized that he has the acting depth of a puddle, and it’s fine. Honestly, he could have done himself a huge service and insisted that every character he’s ever “played” was called Jason.
It’s interesting to note that Ayer was the same director who gave us Training Day and Fury, while this disjoined mash of nonsensical—albeit enjoyable—violence has none of the same artistry. I blame Balboa. Seeing Michael Peña sobbing with fully quivering lips was kinda worth the price of admission.
There was a moment after the first big gunfight where my wife turned to me and said, “That’s three fewer pieces of human garbage,” and I suddenly understood what the point of A Working Man, and most other vigilante movies was. I only nodded off twice after that.
2025.05.19