Friday, January 12, 2024

The Beekeeper: Buzzes with guilty pleasure

The Beekeeper (2024) • View trailer
3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong violene, pervasive profanity, sexual references and drug use
Available via: Movie theaters

There’s nothing like starting the new year with a vicarious revenge saga, particularly when the villain has been concocted for maximum audience satisfaction.

 

Having located the building that houses the illegal phishing call center that victimized
his friend, Adam (Jason Statham, left) promises to burn it to the ground ... which two
security guards find amusing. Until they don't...


Jason Statham continues to kick ass with pizzazz at age 56, with that grim, go-to scowl that always means somebody’s about to suffer well-deserved damage; The Beekeeper clearly has been fashioned around his crowd-pleasing strengths. Although the third act succumbs to excess that only a superhero could endure and survive, his occasional flinty smile and taciturn one-liners will keep viewers happy.

Director David Ayer is a veteran of action-packed thrillers; he and editor Geoffrey O’Brien move things along at a lively clip.

 

Kurt Wimmer’s screenplay is a long way from Shakespeare, but he sets the stage cleverly, and definitely knows how to punch our buttons.

 

The story opens quietly, shadowing beekeeper Adam Clay (Statham) as he lovingly cares for his hives, carefully scrapes the raw honey from combs, then processes that into jars of sweet syrup. He works and lives in a large barn rented from elderly Eloise Parker (Phylicia Rashad), who greatly admires the way that Adam and his bees have transformed her once-dilapidated gardens into things of beauty.

 

Alas, on this particular day, while Adam works outside, Eloise’s computer is hit with what appears to be a security alert. Understandably concerned — and the always regal Rashad is radiant, even when flustered — she calls the number on the screen. 

 

We see what she doesn’t: The call is routed to a scam center run by slick, slimeball conman Boyd Garnett (David Witts), who overcomes Eloise’s uncertainty — “Yes, you could call your bank first, but you’ll lose all your files” — with the smooth-talking élan of considerable experience.

 

This credibly written sequence could be extracted as an effective public service announcement: People, don’t do this at home!

 

The glee with which Boyd reels her in, to the delight of the equally skeevy dozens fleecing their own victims in the call center, is truly appalling. And, sadly, Eloise succumbs.

 

But she isn’t an average mark; along with several personal accounts, she manages a charity fund of more than $2 million ... all of which vanishes in an electronic heartbeat.

 

Eloise’s next move is tragic.

 

Adam’s subsequent reaction is cold fury.

 

And — surprise, surprise — he’s not merely a quiet beekeeper. He has connections. After calling in a high-tech request for a location trace, Adam pays an unannounced visit to Boyd’s phishing operation ... and let’s just say, what happens next is thoroughly enjoyable.

 

(The obvious flaw here, for folks aware of such things, is that Boyd’s operation — and those that follow — are located in various U.S. cities, when in real life they’d be in Russia and elsewhere overseas.)

 

Turns out Boyd’s set-up was merely one of several dozen identical operations overseen by Derek Danforth (Josh Hutcherson), chief exec of his family’s thriving corporation: thriving, that is, on illegally obtained funds. Derek is an insufferable 28-year-old man-child who navigates Danforth Enterprise’s mammoth headquarters via skateboard; his “work” amounts to ordering oatmilk coffee drinks, manicures and head massages, the latter enjoyed amid sound baths.

 

Along with overseeing a completely illicit business empire.

 

Hutcherson gleefully plays this waste of space with over-the-top glee, clearly taking a much-needed swipe at the Silicon Valley culture that emerged during the early dot-com years, as typified by the likes of Mark Zuckerberg. Derek is too arrogant and stupid to realize the danger posed by Adam’s promise to “take him down,” believing instead that the situation can be “resolved” by Danforth handler Wallace Westwyld (Jeremy Irons), a 35-year government op and former CIA director.

 

But Westwyld does know enough to be scared. He realizes that Adam is a Beekeeper — initial capital intended — a member of a “special program outside the chain of command,” formed long ago in order to “protect the hive” (civilized society). When traditional law enforcement is unable to mete out appropriate justice, the Beekeepers step in, etc., etc.

 

And while Adam may be a retired Beekeeper, he remains motivated by a strong sense of right vs. wrong.

 

Nor is he Derek’s only problem. Eloise’s daughter, Verona (Emmy Raver-Lampman), happens to be an FBI special agent who soon realizes that her mother’s former lodger is far more than he seems. Verona is partnered with fellow agent Wiley (Bobby Naderi), a family man with a mordant sense of humor, inclined to caution when Verona would prefer to charge directly into danger.

 

Their easygoing relationship and mutual respect are welcome breaks from all the Statham-induced mayhem; it’s also fun to watch Verona and Wiley work the escalating problem from the law-and-order side of the fence.

 

Minnie Driver makes a fleeting, why-did-she-bother? appearance as Janet Harward, Westwyld’s friend and current CIA director: just two quick scenes shared with no other cast members.

 

Adam is a righteous vengeance avatar; although he has no qualms about using lethal force against the endless supply of Danforth goons, he’s careful to merely pummel hard-working police officers and FBI agents.

 

Two of Adam’s alpha opponents, however, are overblown cartoon grotesques. The purple-garbed Anisette (Megan Le), his replacement in the Beekeeper ranks, is a reckless, heavy-gun-toting lunatic who couldn’t care less about innocent bystanders; her role is simply stupid. 

 

Taylor James has far more presence as Lazarus, Westwyld’s “last stand of mercenaries,” who lost a leg successfully killing a Beekeeper. His British/South African accent is as striking as his colorful hairstyle, matched with a wardrobe straight out of Mad Max.

 

Although the aforementioned climax gets totally ridiculous, Statham and the filmmakers have built up enough good will to elicit tolerant grins ... and, to be fair, Monday evening’s previous audience broke into cheers when the end credits appeared.


What’s not to love? We’d all like to cook boiler-room phone scam administrators in their own juices. (Slowly.)

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